


Little Red Riding Wolf

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Fairy Tails and Wolf Stories [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Stydia, Bigotry & Prejudice, Childhood Friends, Dehumanization, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fractured Fairy Tale, Full Shift Werewolves, Gen, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Mind Control, Pining Scott, Sciles, Stiles Stilinski as Little Red Riding Hood, Unrequited Love, Wolf Scott McCall, fairy tale, fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time in the magical Second Kingdom in a far off land, a young boy nicknamed Red Stilinski after the great Queen herself, lived in an ancient forest with his father. A chance encounter with a tiny wolf named Scott looking for a home changed their lives together. The two best friends grew up dreaming of dragons, princesses, and noble quests, unaware that their real adventure was about to start.</p><p>Or, that really enormous Teen Wolf Fairytale AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is told in a collection of short stories over the span of thirty years. Part one starts when the boys are seven years old and ends when they are sixteen.

 

[Art by Rouvere](http://rouvere.tumblr.com/)

 

It was always quiet at the Outskirts. Their closest neighbors were a carriage ride away, and that was too much effort to see the Flitterpuffs. Their only child had recently turned into a lizard, and everyone was convinced he wasn’t really theirs, besides the guy had always been a bit of a jerk. So most days, it was just Red and his father, and the seemingly endless woods that took over most of the Second Kingdom.

Red, so named after the Great Queen Riding Hood, was never one to stay at home and do his chores. He was always slipping out from under his dad’s watchful eye to throw rocks at bigger rocks, climb trees that didn’t want to be climbed, and try to find that fabled house made out of candy. His father didn’t complain. At least Red wasn’t around to play with his mystical axe, and sometimes, it was just safer to let the boy burn through his seemingly endless supply of energy; Red’s aim was terrible.

And it was with a faithful rock, on a faithful day in the middle of a summer that lasted too long that his fate was sealed. Red had been aiming at a funny looking fruit, hanging precariously off the tip of an already teetering branch. His rock soared through the air and landed about two feet from where it was supposed to, on an unsuspecting wolf’s head.

The tiny wolf pup came tumbling out of the bush, a ball of fur and fangs. He landed with a splat at Red’s feet in a spray of dirt, whimpering in pain. He was under attack! It was knights and hunters and probably some giant monsters that dwelt in the caves between the mountains and probably a dragon too. There were always dragons. The pup had been on the run for so long that he wasn’t even sure who he was running from anymore, but his enemies were wily and had dangerous weapons including  _evil_  rocks.

The wolf sprang up on his paws, every inch of his deep black fur standing on end which made him look more like dandelion poof than anything intimidating. He snapped his fangs at the dangerous tiny human. It was probably a very tiny dragon in disguise, you couldn’t trust dragons. Or humans! That was one thing he remembered clearly even if so many memories blurred together. His mother’s face and the warmth of her arms. Curling against her side when they’d been forced out of their home and hidden in the woods with the rest of their family. She made it seem like an adventure, licking the tears from his face and tucking him under her tail before the hunters had killed them all.

He meant to growl but it came out more like a bark, backing away from the dangerous boy before it launched any more painful weapons at his head.

Red screamed, throwing his hands up in the air before he tripped over his own feet and landed in the dirt with an equally loud oomf _,_ his bright red hood falling over his eyes _._ He groped blindly for something, anything, and ended up waving a large stick back and forth, eyes screwed shut in case he actually hit his target. It took all of three seconds for him to smack himself in the head. Never in his seven years of life had he ever been so mortified and doomed. 

The wolf yelped right back, scared by the human’s loud wailing. Was that some kind of weapon or was it summoning the rest of its evil hairless pack? He was waving his bright red wings like he was going to lift off the ground, the pup knew this was a real dragon! Any second it was going to start breathing fire and hoarding things. That was basically all he knew about dragons.

The little beast gathered himself into an angry ball, tiny red eyes peeking out of his fur as he watched the dangerous dragon boy thing. It extended a stick…a SPEAR! It speared at him! With a bark of alarm, he grabbed the stick with his fangs and wrestled it down to the ground, chewing ferociously to kill it dead. The stick cracked in half with a loud snap, startling the wolf that dropped it immediately and dove into the nearest bush.

The leaves shook as the pup tried to hide himself, the bush’s branches too thick for him to find another way out. He was stuck and the tiny dragon creature was going to burn him alive and then hoard what was left in a hole!

“My stick!” Red wailed, distraught at the death of his fallen colleague. He looked at his hands, his hands that had once so proudly held a brave stick, but now they no longer did. “You broke my stick!” 

His cape flapped dramatically before he  _dove_ after the ball of fluff, arms outstretched and grabby. Red got halfway through the bush, battling angry poking twigs before he couldn’t swim through any more. He sputtered, face mostly covered by his floppy hood, wiggly fingers inching ever closer to his target. He felt a light brush of soft fur. It just wasn’t enough. Beady little eyes were  _mocking_ him.

Disheartened and confused, Red grunted and shimmied his way out of danger. He dropped on his butt in a flurry of movement, breathing hard and covered in dirt. He had never met such a tenacious rabbit.

“I’ve got you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!” Red ordered, pointing very valiantly at the trembling shrubbery. A beat passed, then another, and his face scrunched in concern because the leaves of the undergrowth were still shaking. Oh no, what if the rabbit was stuck?! “Hey get out of there! Hey rabbit!”

Each demand was punctured by a clumsy smack that did very little to part the hedge, but plenty to terrify its occupant.

The dragon child was trying to eat him! The little wolf whimpered, trying to bite at the creature as it shook the bush but only got a mouth full of leaves. He shrank back as far as he could, trying to disappear in the tangled branches, but escape was impossible. Squeezing his eyes shut, the pup waited for the end and wondered if he’d be swallowed whole or roasted first.

Red groaned, pacing unhappily as he rubbed his sore hands on his breeches. He was half-considering his chances of annoying the shrub enough that it would spit out the little bunny to make him stop. After all, his Dad said things in the forest were more alive than they thought. He couldn’t stop the way his voice softened, touched by a thread of self-consciousness, and Red crossed his arms over his chest like he did whenever the other kids from town got sharp. “Don’t you want to play…?”

Or maybe, maybe he did. Doubt had little time to sink in. Red was struck by inspiration and he took off running, all the way back to the cabin he shared with his father.

 The creature left? The wolf blinked open its eyes and held its breath, listening to the sound of stumbling footsteps racing up the path and away from his hiding place. He’d survived! The little pup gave a victory yap, trying to wag his tail and getting it knotted further in the fine branches of the bush. Evil leafy thing. It was probably enchanted, he didn’t trust it. 

The wolf slowly stuck his nose out of his hiding place, giving one deep sniff to check and make sure it was safe. He breathed in a nose full of dust and sneezed, the entire bush shaking as he huffed his annoyance. It seemed clear, the dragon was gone and he could finally make a run for it. The wolf bounded forward, snapping back into the bush as he tripped over the branches. He really was stuck? With a yelp of fear, he started gnawing frantically at any branch he could reach, trying to free himself. He could start chewing off his own foot, but that would really hurt, and he wasn’t sure if it’d grow back or not.

Red ran the whole way back, panting and wheezing as he skidded to a stop in front of the bush. In his arms was the wooden bowl his father had carved and kept in the center of their kitchen table, still filled with everything they didn’t keep in their pantry. The bush was still wiggling! He wasn’t too late!

Woof was terrified at the prospect of never getting out. He was trapped and helpless, the monster was going to kill him after he’d run all this way for weeks and months all on his own. Stupid red dragon and stupid magic bush. This wasn’t fair! The pup hunkered down, growling softly and trying to make himself as big as possible in a last ditch effort to scare the dragon away.  _Please don’t eat me, I don’t taste good! I’m a big scary wolf and we’re not snacks._  

“Come on, rabbit! I’ve got a gift!” Red fell to his belly and wormed his way through the tangle of twigs and leaves after his target. Huffing and puffing, he got as close as he could and squished an icing covered cupcake on any bit of the rabbit he could reach, unaware that the wolf was wiggling as far away as he could manage. 

The pup pressed himself back into the branches as the monster smeared some kind of sauce all over him but mostly his snout. THE DRAGON WAS SEASONING HIM TO MAKE HIM TASTIER!! The tiny wolf howled at the top of its lungs in fear, calling out for help as if anyone would hear him. He wanted his mom to save him, please. 

All it did was set of a thousand alarms in Red’s little head. Because bunnies didn’t howl. Everything slipped into place with a terrifying clarity, and for once, it wasn’t the wolf making a fuss.

“WOLF!” Red yelled. “Wolf! Wooolf!”

The wolf shrunk back in alarm as the human started thrashing. He knew that word, they yelled it a lot before they came to hunt you with their arrows and pointy pitchforks. He licked the human, trying to calm him down before any bigger humans heard the call, only to get a lob of icing off his nose. It was sweet, this was good? His pink tongue darted out, trying to catch as much of the sugar as possible. Maybe this wasn’t a way to make him taste better, it could be a treat. Was the dragon trying to be friends with him?

The wolf cautiously reached forward, sniffing at the boy like he could burst into flame at any second. It didn’t smell like a dragon, not that he knew what one of those actually smelled like. More like human, those the little wolf was very familiar with. Humans were mean and dangerous, but this one was so tiny that the wolf thought he could probably knock him over. He licked the side of the human’s nose again, trying to find more frosting. If anything, it made the boy louder.

“M’nose!”

Terrified he was going to get eaten, Red tried to stand and got knocked on the head for his trouble. His hood fell over his eyes as he grabbed at his face, only for the pup to lick at his wrist. Red recoiled suspiciously, clutching his hand to his face as the wolf strained to reach the rest of the cupcake, guzzling it down with one impressive bite. Crumbs and icing went everywhere, but mostly it went into the wolf’s mouth so there were no complaints.

While the pup was distracted, Red reached out, scratching the top of the creature’s head, and woah that was so much cooler than any rabbit! 

With a whine, the pup braced himself to be attacked but  _oooh_ , the human fingers scratched against his skull and the wolf melted into a happy puddle. His tail tried to wag, bush shaking as with the effort. That was nice, it didn’t hurt at all. He looked down his snout at the human pup, eyes crossed at the boy who was far too close. The wolf licked across the human’s face again just for good measure and gave a huffing canine laugh, tongue lolling out of his mouth, and Red laughed with him. He tried to bring both hands up to smoosh the canine’s face together, only to get an elbow stuck under him. Looking utterly pained, Red rolled and squirmed, before ordering, “Come on, push me out! Push me out push me out! You’re coming with me!”

The wolf sneezed at his shrill companion and butted his head against the human’s shoulder, pushing as hard as he could until the boy rolled out of the bush.  _Now me! Now me! Help me out, I’m stuck._

Victorious laughter catching in Red’s throat. He flopped on his back, arms and legs starfished in all directions. He did it! He’d found something a thousand times cooler than any old rabbit, and now everything was going to be awesome! “Come on!” He giggled, rolling on his front and waving at the bush. When the wolf didn’t reappear, It was quickly followed by, “Oh no, you’re stuck!” 

Red frowned in concern as he considered his puzzle before grabbing the broken pieces of his stick. Though he treasured his loyal partner dearly, there was only one thing he could do. He ran around the bush, poking around until he found the spot he guessed was behind the wolf and started jabbing at the mesh of twigs and leaves until he heard the canine yelp. 

“Aha!”

The wolf wasn’t feeling very  _aha_ at all. After all that, the human rewarded the wolf with awful butt poking. What did he do to deserve this? Then twigs started snapping. As soon as the branches shifted enough, the wolf wiggled himself free, leaves stuck in his dark fur as he took off across the path and shook himself clean. He should just run, he knew it was safer to get as far away from humans as possible, even small ones. Where there was one, there were more and a group of humans meant danger.

His mother had always told him that humans were the most dangerous thing a wolf had to worry about (even if he thought dragons must be scarier), and he’d learned the truth to her words. A wolf wasn’t welcome in any kingdom and a pack was easy to track. The last time he’d seen his mother, they’d been surrounded by villagers who’d tracked them after his starving pack had scavenged a sickly cow from one of the farmers. She howled as he ran, urging him on before the sound cut off abruptly. He’d never looked back, too afraid of what was behind him.

This one didn’t look as dangerous as a full grown human, but looks could be deceiving. He was small and thin with pale freckled skin and knobby knees covered in scrapes. Wild brown hair stuck up in every direction and elation shone bright in his light brown eyes.

Red’s hands were scratched up, and there was dirt smeared all over him, but success was worth all his sacrifices. He punched the air with a roar.

“I am the Wolf Savior!”

The wolf put a little more distance between him and his so-called savior.

“Hey hey hey!” Red called, waving his hands back and forth, but the closer he got, the farther the fuzzy little thing retreated. He was so  _poof,_ Red wasn’t even sure he had anything but hair on him. Still, he got to his knees, holding out his hands in the hopes that he could lure the wolf closer.

“Hey… It’s okay. Look, look I got-  uh…” The best thing he’d brought from home had been the cupcake. It was his last one, bought back when his Dad had gone into town a few days ago. Then there were carrots, a funny looking apple, a roll of twine and a slab of salami.  _But the wolf wasn’t a rabbit._  The little boy gasped at his good fortune, clapping his hands before swinging the stick of meat at his new friend. “Look I got this!”

He broke off a piece of meat, waving it at the wolf’s face. His smile faltered when he couldn’t coax the fur ball closer, but when he tossed the scrap, the wolf went running for it.

Meat was irresistible and the pup fell for the trick, licking the salty taste from his muzzle. His stomach growled, demanding more. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a real meal. Maybe that chicken four or five towns ago? He was too little to hunt on his own, too small to bring down a deer and too unskilled to hunt rabbits or squirrels.

“You’re hungry aren’t you? This is good. I promise, come on, just… Come  _on.”_ It was slow going, luring the wolf closer step by step, but once he was close enough, Red lunged with a roar, scooping him into his arms and burying his face in endless poof. 

_Success._

The wolf wailed, flailing in Red’s arms to escape but the boy held on too tight. For one brief second, the pup was convinced he was wrong and the human was really going to eat him, but the bite never came. Cautiously, he craned his neck around, trying to get a look at the boy who buried his face in his side. His stomach growled painfully again and the wolf surrendered. If he was nice, maybe the human wouldn’t hurt him and might even give him more of that delicious salami. He was so hungry, practically ready to waste away into wolfy mist!

Soulful brown eyes pleaded with the freckle spotted boy and he licked the human’s face again, trying to convince him to share.  _Just another piece or ten? Please, I’m a nice wolf. I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me._ He struggled in the boy’s arms until he found his chance and took a huge chomp out of the salami in the human’s hand. The wolf chewed victoriously, tail thumping hard against the ground.

“You like salami!” 

Floppy puppy, floppy puppy, Red had a floppy puppy! The little boy hummed to himself, completely satisfied with his brilliant wolf-taming ways. He really was the Wolf Savior! He ooh’d and aah’d as his new found friend chewed, snickering brightly as he patted himself on the back. They dropped to the ground, Red’s grip never faltering before he aggressively snuggled the wolf into submission. His cape spread all around them, like they had their own picnic blanket, and he cradled his prize like a baby in his arms. It was important to know that Red had never carried a baby in his life.

“Woah, I mean, you really like salami,” he teased, going cross-eyed as he peered down at the puppy. Then Red licked the wolf’s face. It wasn’t fair if there was only one-way licking! The wolf curled his lips back from his fangs as the human drooled across his face, but was mollified after snatching another piece of meat from the child’s fingers.

“I’m Red Stilinski, the Wolf Savior,” he introduced, still running high on his pride. Victory and smug satisfaction were the best drugs. His voice dropped to a heated whisper, “Well, I’m not  _really_  Red, but my real name’s dumb, so I wanna be Red, like the Great Queen Red.”

Then because his belly was right there, Red got to scratching. “Who’re you?”

The wolf pup snorted, small humans were ridiculous. Wolf Savior? This Red was treating him like he was some sort of simple dog, that was flat out rude. The boy was squishing all of his insides and his spleen was cramping, but a little discomfort was worth it as long as there were salami. This really wasn’t so bad, maybe only the big humans were the dangerous ones and the little ones came with treats and belly rubs. He could teach this child the difference between a dog and people, it was important to be able to tell which was which.

Red’s hands were like magic and the little wolf flopped bonelessly as his stomach was scratched. His hind leg twitched happily and he nosed at the human’s hand, licking the last of the salty salami flavor from his fingers. Red really was a dumb name, what kind of name did the boy have before he picked that one? Maybe it was a human thing, he didn’t understand them at all. Wolves were always much simpler, humans didn’t even have a tail. How could you have a real conversation with someone without a tail? No wonder they had to shout at each other all the time.

He barked his name trying to make it as simple for the boy as possible. Red didn’t seem to understand, so he tried again more slowly.

“Barf!” Red mimicked. “BARF!”

The clumsy human fell over giggling, dragging his new furry friend with him and cuddling him a little too tight. “Barf? Your name is Barf?!”

No way, that couldn’t be it. Even wolves had to know what barf was, but the little boy tried to lift not-Barf up, hoping to meet his eyes. This was a serious matter. Pity the pup was too busy trying to lick his salami.

“Barf,” Red repeated, considering. “Barf…  _Barf_ , woof? Woof! Your name is Woof! Is that what you’re trying to say? Good boy! Gooood boy!” Then he gave Woof the best belly rub of his young life.

Wow, this human pup really wasn’t very smart and he didn’t know how to speak like a proper wolf. He’d clearly said  _Scott_ , but the boy couldn’t seem to understand. He wasn’t some stupid animal or mindless pet and he huffed irritably at the human child couldn’t tell the difference. The wolf was struck by a sudden pity for poor hairless Red, he’d never be able to grasp the subtleties of their language. Barf was embarrassingly bad, but Scott thought he could deal with Woof if it meant he’d keep getting those awesome scratches.

If his mother was right about humans being dangerous, this Red was the exception. He seemed nice and he carried around such delicious treats, that made them almost friends, right? Woof wasn’t sure if wolves were allowed to be friends with humans but this meant they had to be. Friends pushed you out of scary bushes and gave you snacks. If he could figure out how to catch any, he’d definitely share a rabbit with Red…after he took a few bites just to make sure it was a good rabbit. He was  _so_  hungry.

“Woof.” Scott agreed.  _I can be Woof! You really need someone to help you, you’re sort of a clueless human pup._ Red laughed in agreement.

They spent the rest of their day rolling through woods Red knew like the back of his hand, falling over each other laughing and polishing off the rest of Red’s stolen loot, though neither of them fancied the carrots much. They chased birds through the undergrowth and pushed each other into the stream, and when the sun started to set, Red made a fateful decision. He shoved a muddy, slobbery Woof under his shirt and carried him back home, making him wear the wooden bowl he’d stolen from the kitchen counter like a hat to complete his disguise.

Woof snorted in annoyance the whole time he was smuggled through the woods. He was a big scary wolf! He didn’t get shoved under some tiny boy’s shirt and dragged around like a rag doll, but Red smelled nice and he was warm, so the pup silently bore the indignity. Playing with a little human was one thing, but actually going into one of their homes?

“Now you have to be quiet,” Red whisper-hissed as they crept through the back door, bopping his new friend on the nose as they went. “We can’t get caught.” He got a face full of drool for his trouble and sneaked the wolf into his room.

When Woodsman Stilinski returned later that evening with their donkey and cart, he caught his son trying to smuggle sugar bread under his shirt. He really needed to get that boy bigger pockets, but at least when his son was terrible, he was obviously terrible.

“Red.” He said, in a tone that suggested he knew he’d be saying it a lot more, as he took a slow look around their small home. “Where’s the salami?”

Chewing slowly, eyes wide and not at all convincing, Red blurted out, “The rabbit got hungry? I got hungry!”

“Did you bring a rabbit home, son?”

“…  _No._ ”

The Woodsman pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled, “Put it back outside, Red, and don’t eat all of that. You’ll spoil your dinner.”

“Okay, dad!” But his son was already bounding to his room, his ill-gotten gains wrapped in a bright red cloak that would need washing again. The Woodsman was way too old for this, but he managed a tired sort of smile. At least it was just a rabbit.

Hidden under Red’s blankets, Woof couldn’t help but shiver at the other human voice, someone older and way more dangerous. If he was caught, he could be killed just like the rest of his pack. What was he thinking? This was a mistake, he needed to find a way to escape before he got hurt. The bedroom door opened, and Woof poked his muzzle out from his hiding place, sniffing carefully and was completely distracted by the smell of food. Red brought him snacks! _Oh what a good little human pup you are. Yes you are!_  He rewarded the human with a frantic licking, smacking his tail against the boy’s legs before jumping up on the lumpy mattress. 

With a happy huff, Woof tackled Red into the pillows to steal all of his hidden treats before licking him clean of every crumb. Afterward, he curled up on his friend and let himself doze, thoughts of escape hidden away for the moment. He knew he should be more careful, but it was so difficult to keep his eyes open when his belly was full and he was so warm. He never made it to the Woodsman’s call for dinner. He was far more comfortable with his nose tucked into Red’s side, and fast asleep.

“Get some rest, Woof,” the human boy whispered, carefully making a nest of blankets around the little pup. He dropped a tender kiss between his ears, stroking down soft fur with gentle hands. “I’m gonna take care of you, promise.”

Safe and sound after so long, Woof burrowed into his blanket cocoon, and slept easy for the first time in months.

 


	2. Chapter 2

They were a pair born for trouble. Woof found that the human pup was wickedly brave and reckless, tearing around like some feral creature through the woods like he was a part of them. The wolf approved, humans were a complicated and scary thing but the boy was simpler. Food, play, napping together when he smuggled Woof into the tiny cabin he shared with his father, that was all that really mattered and it didn’t take long for the pup to let his guard down. Red was a friend. A silly friend who didn’t know how to use all his limbs and wobbled around like some newborn deer, but a friend.

He watched the human closely, studying everything he did and trying to mimic him. Their language was so imprecise, but he could understand everything Red babbled to him during the day and the human romped and played in that carelessly rough way of young things. He did his best to try and teach Red how to be more wolflike, to move without alerting everything in the woods to his presence and to talk without a word, but the little boy was slow to learn. Then Woof would head butt his friend into a mud puddle and run away yapping. As long as they could keep themselves hidden from Woodsman Stilinski, life was perfect.

If the Woodsman had noticed that his son came home tracking more mud than ever before, he kept mum. With a friend to run with, Red went as hard as he and his bony knees could, laughing and shrieking as they tumbled themselves silly. Everything was the best sort of competition, an unspoken dare. They didn’t need words to challenge each other, and Woof always seemed to know what to do. They ran through mud pits and into leaf piles, and one time, straight into a tree. (Red knocked his front tooth out; he and Woof treated it like a medal of honor.)

They were spectacularly careless in everything they did, except when it came to the Woodsman. Red only skipped his breakfast, when the Woodsman was distracted by his preparations to leave for work. Then he’d sneak most of his plate upstairs to his wolf. Woof kept out of sight, like a particularly fuzzy shadow, whenever the Woodsman was home. They crept around like mice, and burst into loud, bumbling trolls the moment they stumbled into the woods.

The wolf pup barked and bounded around the boy with endless energy. The woods were their domain, kings of the forest while Red’s father was working and he couldn’t keep still. There were always too many adventures to have and imaginary monsters to fight, all sorts of wondrous places to explore where magic bubbled up between the ancient trees. Red knew all the best places, the hidden pools filled with rainbow frogs or the grove of trees that looked like they had ancient faces twisted in the bark.

Red wanted to take his fuzz butt dummy everywhere. Suddenly his home was a thousand times more interesting, and he wanted to show off so badly, babbling a mile a minute, but Woof always kept up. He waved a loaf of bread around, tracking crumbs everywhere as he stuffed his face and they walked deeper and deeper into the forest. Red just didn’t immediately notice that the forest wasn’t as familiar as it used to be. 

Woof slunk through the shadows and watched the bright red of his friend’s cloak through the dappled sunlight. It was too much of a target, he couldn’t help himself. He stalked the other boy, the craftiest of predators and the biggest, baddest wolf in the whole woods. Red would never even see it coming. The pup wiggled his butt, gathering himself before springing from the bushes and bowling the human over with a snarl. They rolled through the dirt, Red laughing as Woof licked his face. Success! His smug victory lasted only a moment before the boy wiggled free and gave chase, the wolf yipping in alarm and racing away with his tongue hanging out.

Red barreled into the wolf and sent them both sprawling. It was okay. The ground broke their fall. He groaned dramatically, already comfortable with the buttons he needed to push to get the maximum amount of sympathy from his unsuspecting victim. 

The little pup didn’t realize how late it had gotten until the shadows grew longer and a brisk chill ruffled his fur. Woof stopped, panting as he looked around in confusion. They’d wandered farther than they ever had before and he didn’t know exactly where they were anymore. Their scents looped and circled in confusing trails and he looked at the human, trusting in Red’s own sense of direction.  _It’s getting late, we should go back._

When Woof didn’t flop his furry butt on his face, Red looked up at a sky splashed with purple and orange. “It’s getting late,” he mumbled. “We should get back.”

 _I just said that_. Woof rolled his doggy eyes and Red totally missed how impressive that was. This silly human pup didn’t know how to listen when people were talking to him, Woof was going to have to try harder to teach Red how to be a better wolf cub. He had a lot of potential, he knew how to tussle and fight without care and gave the best head scratches in the world. The wolf thought his best friend needed a lot of help, but a good rub behind the ears was enough to forgive just about everything. 

The human boy dusted himself off, shaking out his cloak before his hand found the wolf’s head, giving him an easy scratch. Maybe he squished Woof’s face into his side a little, but Red just needed a minute to reorient himself. It was good to know that Woof would keep the monsters away. The boy worried the inside of his cheek. The woods weren’t talking to him the way they normally did, the way magical forests always spoke to travelers. The subtle playful whisper that carried on the wings of talking birds and impatient trees had gone quiet. He had no way of knowing it yet, but they weren’t in his woods anymore. This part of the forest didn’t belong there. It had shouldered its way through natural enchantments, and it would disappear again, eventually, after it got its fill of choice, little lost children who strayed off the beaten path. It belonged to something older, something wicked, but something that could appear infinitely sweeter in every way that counted. Magic crinkled like a teasing laugh through the air, and the child beamed, excited as he turned to it.

“Come on, this way,” Red choose, with a decisive nod. He gave Woof one last scratch before heading west, following the sunset. They weren’t the only ones.

He trotted happily at his best friend’s side, trusting in Red’s innate ability to find their way home even though the shadows grew darker and a cold breeze rustled the leaves of the trees as the sun sank lower in the sky. It should have been an easy walk back to the little wooden cabin tucked up against the lake, but the path seemed to wind in unfamiliar twists, the trees bigger and older than their part of the forest. He was so sure that they’d come this way before, but even though the little wolf breathed deeply, he couldn’t catch the scent of their trail anymore.

Something was wrong and Woof shivered, pressing closer to the human as the sun finally sent and the world was swallowed in darkness. He whined, catching the edge of Red’s bright cloak and giving it an urgent tug. They needed to go back and retrace their steps before it got any later, who knew what kind of creatures came out at night in this part of the woods or if hunters lurked just off the path.  _Something’s wrong, can’t you feel it? It’s too quiet. Where are all the animals?_

“Come’ere you big baby.” Red grumbled, but all too eagerly scooped the pup into his arms. It took some wiggling and one-armed wrestling, but he shoved Woof under his shirt, holding him in a way that couldn’t be all that comfortable and letting tiny puppy paws kick at air. “For a Woof, you’re looking a lot like a chicken butt.”

They were brave words for someone who could barely keep one foot in front of the other. This didn’t make sense, and he knew it. Even heading in the wrong direction, by following the trail, they should have come across some kind of landmark. There was something odd about this path. Red could have sworn that whenever he stopped to look behind him, it changed. Except that was crazy baby talk. He knew the woods like the back of his hand. He was just scared his dad was going to yell at him when he got home, but he hugged Woof just a little tighter.

Woof snuggled into his best friend’s shirt, poking his furry face out of Red’s stretched out neck hole and giving a quiet huff. He wasn’t scared! He’d spend plenty of nights sleeping alone in the darkness of the forest, it just usually wasn’t so quiet. There was always a soft rustle of a breeze high up in the branches, leaves just barely dancing against starlight. There were the quiet footfalls of deer, the yip of a fox on the hunt, the tiny squeak of captured prey and a rush of an owl’s wings. It was just as loud as the day if you knew how to listen and the noise helped the young wolf feel safe. No one would notice one silently sleeping pup.

This was unnatural, like all the animals had run from whatever it was that watched them. Woof could feel its eyes tracking them as they tried to stay on the path, the steady heartbeat of a true predator. He whimpered to himself, giving Red’s neck a quick lick of encouragement. Where was the cabin? The Woodsman would know what to do, all they had to do was go home.

It didn’t matter that the trees were thicker here, intertwined branches almost enough to block out the moon. The forest was too quiet, not a chirping cricket or hooting owl to keep them company, but there was something else, the steady beat of an unfamiliar pulse. Red couldn’t hear it, but he almost wished he could. The silence had never felt so heavy, like it had gained a physical weight, pressing in on them until, until…

Until there was light at the end of the tunnel, and Red made a dash for it. What he saw blew his mind. It was the most amazing house he’d ever seen, with brownies for bricks, and frosted candy for glass. The door was covered with sour patch kids, but it was meaty lamb chops that served as window panes and sizzling burgers piled up where fire wood should have been. Everything was so bright and shiny, he let out a whoop of victory, rushing for the house.

The house wasn’t perfect though. There were parts that did’t give off the alluring light, parts that looked older than Red, or his parents, or even Old Mrs. Shoe down town. But who would want to look at that?

Woof scrabbled against the human boy in alarm as Red took off running, wiggling himself free from the swooping red cloak and shaking himself off. Rude! The pup was just about to give his friend a piece of his mind when the mouth watering scent of cooked meat knocked the young wolf sideways. His tongue lolled and his stomach growled fiercely as he took off with an excited bark, racing Red towards the house. Oh, wow. This must be some kind of magic, it was way better than the stupid cabin Woodsman Stilinski had built. Why hadn’t anyone else thought to make a home that was so delicious?

The fear of the hunter was forgotten in the mad rush for food. He dove head first into the grilled burgers, tail wagging hard as he stuffed as much meat into his face as he could hold.

Red was in Heaven!

He punched himself in the mouth with fists full of brownies, climbing up the side of the magical cabin to lick at its walls, only to gasp in amazement. There were SALAMI PIPES! He squealed, grabbed three long links and threw them at the ground, only to laugh at his friend’s startled yelps. He sprayed crumbs everywhere in the process. There was so much food! He didn’t realize how hungry he’d been until a feast was laid out before him, and with sticky fingers, Red rushed around the house to gorge himself until he popped. Or pooped, whatever came first.

The boys could spend the rest of their lives here until they burst. Woof ran around the house in a frenzy, bringing treats back to Red and catching pieces of ham the boy tossed into the air. They were going to have a serious talk with the Woodsman about his house choices. Maybe they could all move in here and he could gnaw on the plumbing. They could keep this place, right? It was finders keepers and no one else was here. Plus, he was already halfway through a meaty table leg and there was no stopping now.

“OH MY GOD WOOF LOOK AT THIS AND THIS AND THIS!” A steady stream of chatter echoed around the house, and even the night seemed brighter. Red was too busy climbing a patch of pasta to a bushel of meatballs to notice when a large figure followed them into the light of the cabin. It was like something out of a nightmare, bigger than any wolf even Woof had ever seen, its powerful claws terrifying large, and the mouth that split its face was filled with impossibly sharp fangs. It moved like it had only ever known the life of a predator, with a liquid grace and dangerous cunning.

Yet once it was close enough to the pup, it let out a teasing bark, startling Woof until he landed face first in his dinner.

_Little pups shouldn’t wander the woods alone._

The pup yelped in alarm, puffing himself as big as he could and barking angrily at the nightmare creature. He kept his legs stiff to make himself seem more dangerous and put himself between the other wolf and Red to protect his best friend. None of the wolves in his village had looked like this creature, it was like some mix of human and animal, unable to choose which one to wear. A monster, a real one just like his mother told him about!

Lips curled back from tiny fangs as he did his best to snarl around a mouth full of salami.  _I’m not little and I’m not alone. You should leave, this is our place and-oh. Wait, is this your house?_  The pup faltered, suddenly realizing how much of a mess he and Red had made of the cabin.

 _Perhaps._  The older wolf drawled, sauntering into the clearing. It spared a glance at the human pup tripping over its own feet to get away, before he leaned closer and nudged Woof with the tip of his nose. It was enough to send the puppy flopping to the ground, fur fuzzed up but the wolf’s eyes flashed crimson.  _I might let you play with it. You’re a long way from home, pup. Where’s your pack?_

“You leave him alone!” Red yelled from behind his friend, waving a lollipop as threateningly as he could muster. The wolf fixed him with an unimpressed stare before turning back to his target.

_Tell your human. I can let you rest._

Woof snagged Red’s cloak with his teeth, yanking backwards to keep the sticky little boy from launching himself at the monster. They were too small to take on a beast like this and wolves weren’t supposed to be scary, even if they did look like monsters. Wolves took care of each other because everyone else was trying to hurt them, that was something his mother had taught him when he was very young. They only had each other.

 _My pack’s dead_. Woof’s ears drooped sadly.  _This is my friend, he took me in._ Humans didn’t have packs that he could tell, but they were so complicated that he wasn’t sure if he could ever be part of the Woodsman’s pack. Maybe once they had the nerve to introduce him?

_I’m really sorry we ate your house. Is it okay if we stay? I’m not sure where home is from here but we can find it in the morning._

_Poor little wolf. Come. Eat til your heart’s content. The woods are so dangerous on your own._ The beast crooned, leaning in so it could lick the side of Woof’s face, ignoring the human’s sharp intake of breath. Red was convinced the monster would have eaten his friend whole, given half the chance, and the wolf wasn’t doing anything to help soothe his fears. He almost seemed to smile with its maddeningly sharp teeth and pointed gaze, but leering down at the pup as the subtlest magic wormed its way through Woof’s mind, unraveling his worries first, then calling up on older instinct.

“That’s enough!” Red complained, clutching a piece of sugary wall close to his chest. The wolf just walked past him, toppling the child over though he was gentle as he coaxed Woof towards the front door.  _And trusting humans is risky business._

The building was kept together by layer after layer of spell. Though time had left some of the structure weakened, crossing its threshold still sent shivers down Red’s spine. It was old magic that built the cottage. Gretel the Great had vanquished the witch, but some things could only be defeated by time, and until then, there were those who knew how to put magic to good use.

“Woof - Woof, maybe we should go home…”

 _The human does not know your name?_ Their host asked.  _It’s wise not to trust them. You remember what they did, don’t you?_

The sound of an all too familiar howl echoed through the building. Scott would never be able to forget how abruptly it had cut off.

The pup pressed his trembling body against the older wolf’s side, trying to block out the howl. There’d been smoke, he could almost smell it again. They’d circled the woods where the surviving members of his pack had hidden when their town was destroyed, banging pots and shouting to drive them all towards the open fields. Torches burned the grass around them until they were trapped inside, any wolf who dared to escape through the flames was stabbed with pitchforks or shot with arrows before they could get far. He’d been so small he’d managed to get through, badly singed and terrified, only because his mother had distracted them long enough for him to make it back into the tree line.

Don’t trust humans, she drilled it into his head. They hate wolves, they’ll kill all wolves on sight.

 _It’s alright, little one. You’re safe here, no one is going to hurt you. My name’s Peter._ The wolf creature nuzzled the pup until he relaxed, magic muddling his thoughts.

 _I’m Scott._  It had been a long time since anyone had used his real name and he leaned into Peter’s fur, feeling safe. This was right, it was what it was supposed to be. Being a wolf alone was so hard, but he wasn’t alone anymore and Peter felt so much like home. He didn’t even glance at Red, almost forgetting the human was even there.

_Scott is a good name, a strong name for a strong pup. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, I’m here to keep you safe._

A wolf could believe another wolf and the little pup curled trustingly by Peter’s paws.

The change was instantaneous. It wasn’t everything he needed, but it was a start. Peter relished the rush of strength that flooded through his veins. They were in a place of old magic, somewhere powerful and awe-inspiring, something that had lasted for hundreds of years even without a keeper. The pup was already helping him, but when he was through, Scott would give him everything he could. It reminded Peter of what it was like to have a pack, though the twisted monster had a concept of pack that no sane wolf would ever agree to. It had been so long since his own, weeded down to just three survivors, had exiled him. If they’d been able to catch him, Peter had no doubt that they would have killed him, but he found this house, this sanctuary that promised the perfect lure for the unwitting traveler. Abandoned but  _wanting,_  it wasn’t the fresh meat and clear ale that drew him in, but a recognition of kinship. Peter had his trap, and now he had this pup, sweet and young and already so eager to serve.

A mince pie smacked him in the face, and he turned with a growl to the plucky human in red.

“Leave him alone, you big dummy!” Red yelled, cloak billowing as threateningly as it could be at his back. His face was still smeared with chocolate, but his hands were balled into fists, and he was ready to fight - as ready as he could ever be. He didn’t like the way Woof had fallen quiet, but when the young wolf slumped at the beast’s feet, he’d freaked out. “Woof’s coming home with me! We’re leaving now!”

Peter watched the little human with cold detachment, dragging his nose across the curve of Scott’s back. He was such a tempting mark.  _I can protect you, Scott. Teach you how to defend yourself… And your pack. If you listen, I can show you everything._

Then the child charged, with a shrill yell, swinging a large chunk of salami. Peter shifted seamlessly, skin crawling and fur receding so he could grab the boy with human hands, twisting his arms behind his back until Red cried out. Woof didn’t move an inch.

Woof was lost in his own mind, swimming in the promises Peter had given him and swallowed down by magic. His pack, he missed his pack. There was an instinctual need to stay together, a lone wolf was nothing and a lost pup even less. There was safety with Peter, he could feel it thrumming through him like a pulse to wrap him in warmth and family. He wanted to defend himself and his pack, there was so much to learn. He’d been too small to save his mother or any of the others in his pack. If he could just get stronger, maybe that howling in his head would finally stop.

He watched the human with blank, glassy amber eyes like he didn’t recognize his friend. Peter was taking care of them, all he had to do was trust the other wolf and he’d be part of a pack again. The human…Woof couldn’t quite remember the boy’s name, but that didn’t matter much anymore. Things were going to finally get better and he didn’t have to run anymore. After running for so long, he was finally home.

Peter grinned down at Red, teeth too sharp for a normal human. The little boy was no match for the monster and Red found himself stuffed into a small, rusted cage set near the hearth.

“There, you see?” The elder wolf said, watching his prey as he reached down to stroke Scott’s head with his fingers. The pup reached up, seeking his touch like he needed reassurance. “Already attacking us. Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you. In fact, I’m going to teach you what humans are good for, little pup. All we need to do is fatten him up a little first and then we’ll share him like a real pack does.”

Red tripped over himself, crashing into a rickety old cage with bars that rattled but refused to give way, no matter how much he smacked them. It took him a second to realize what the scoured white stone that made up his prison was. Red gasped, curling into himself and tugging his cloak tighter around him, pushing himself to the farthest wall of his cage, anything to escape the bones.

“Woof,” he croaked, because he didn’t recognize his best friend, and it was beginning to scare him. “What did you do to him?!” He demanded, even as he shrunk away from the monster. He had to save Woof. He had to save himself! Red had his work cut out for him, and he daren’t think about how the beast said he would…  _Eat_ him. Why would Woof do that? Woof was his friend! “Leave him alone! We just wanna go home!”

A swift kick to the front of his cage had Red cowering in, and his prison guard just smiled, his focus on his new little pet. His words were gentle but demanding, combing his fingers through dark fur like he was stealing away all the pup’s worries.

“Start the fire,” he ordered, voice slicker than oil but so gentle in that moment. “Then take everything you want, Scott. In a few nights, we’ll feast.”

Someone was calling Scott from a long way away or maybe underwater. He could hear his name with fear in the voice, trying to pull him back. The little pup tried to grasp on to it, following the call back to himself, but Peter’s hands scratched against his head and he was rolled under by the promise of safety the cabin’s magic offered him.

He yipped in understanding, bounding away happily to wrestle as many sticks as he could carry in his mouth over to the flickering embers in the fireplace. Peter watched the pup with a smug sense of pride. The cabin had brought him exactly what he wanted, the magic shaped to his own desires for pack and power to act like a lure. The young wolf was merely a first step to rebuilding a pack finally loyal to him until he was the strongest wolf in the Southern Kingdoms. All he had to do was teach his new pup to kill with him and the bond would be complete.

Woof panted as the fire finally caught, spilling warmth and light out into the cabin. With another short bark of victory, he pounced on a half eaten sausage and settled down by the hearth to eat.

“Get some rest, pup. You’ve had a long day.” The monster’s voice lulled Woof until he dozed in his meal.

Red watched the wolf move through the cabin. It was like his feet barely touched the ground, something unnaturally graceful about every gesture. Even the animals of the forest he knew made noises. This wolf looked like he could have been made of smoke. A plate of food was slid into his cage. His captor smirked as the prisoner scrambled away, its tail as good as tucked between his legs.

”Eat,” he urged, tone deceptively light. He really did want some meat on those scrawny limbs, but if the brat caused too much trouble, Peter had no trouble picking bones out of his teeth.

Red clutched his plate close to his test, taking two greedy bites even as his stomach rolled. For a moment, he was sure his food was going to be making a second appearance, but he held it down, and eventually the wolf slunk into the shadows. Red just needed a little longer to stop freaking out. He crawled to the edge of his cage, and threw part of his dinner, a sour gum drop, at his sleeping friend’s head.

“ _Woooof.”_

The pup woke up with a confused snort, sniffing around for the offending projectile. He slurped the gumdrop into his mouth, chewing the sugary-sour treat with delight and rolled up to his feet to search for more. These were so good! He found another one, catching the candy on his tongue and trying to chew with sharp canine teeth. The wolf pounced again like some kind of mighty hunter on his next treat, slowly being lured towards the cage.

He snuffed around the twisted bones, nose wrinkling at the stink of old rot instead of sweet sugar. Where did the candies go? He sat back on his haunches, looking up at the captive boy with blank, glassy eyes as his tail thumped impatiently. There were treats in there, but the pup didn’t seem to even recognize Red, barely even seeing him. To him, the cabin had become home, its magic playing with his sight to show him a room that looked like his own long before he and his mother had to run. The old magics knew exactly what kind of bait to set for its young prey.

Humans weren’t trustworthy. Human’s weren’t pack. They were dangerous and he had to learn how to stop them. His new family was going to protect him…but candies? Woof pressed his muzzle between the bars, shamelessly begging for more.

It was working! His plan was working! Woof was going to save him! He’d been trapped all of five minutes, but already Red dreamed of freedom. In his dreams, his co-conspirator didn’t look straight through him.

“Woof?” He asked, suddenly nervous as he stroked down the line of the pup’s muzzle. It was a trick. It had to be, but Woof leaned into his touch and didn’t even try to help him. “What did he do to you?” Red shook himself, shaking his head as he pressed another gum drop to his wolf’s mouth. “Snap out of it, Woof! We gotta get out of here! He’s gonna eat me, and he’s gonna - he’s gonna. I don’t know what he’s gonna do to you, but it won’t be good!”

Woof couldn’t be siding with the bad guy. It was unthinkable. It had to be a trick. Woof was… His friend. He was the best friend Red had ever had.

“Why won’t you help me Woof?” he whispered. Hope was built on so many paradoxes, incredibly fragile but always the last to die. It took a pretty big hit here. Red’s heart was racing, and for the first time today, he had to take a good look at just how scared he was, and how alone. “Let me out. I wanna go home.”

There was that voice again, afraid and tugging at the wolf’s attention. Gentle hands stroked through his fur and the scent of home wrapped around him. Home. This was home, he had a pack now and everything was going to be…no? Home was a wild boy in a bright red hood tearing through the woods, it was scraps smuggled under the bed when the Woodsman fell asleep and curling on the foot of a lumpy, too crowded bed. His pack was gone, but the wolf had found someone to take him in.

Woof whimpered softly, rubbing a paw against his head and blinking rapidly as he tried to fight through the insidious magic that had tied itself so tightly around his mind. This wasn’t right, Red was  _scared_. His best friend was in trouble! Reality snapped back fast, the dream world of safety and pack shattered and left Scott reeling. Peter wasn’t his family, real family didn’t hurt people. Maybe humans couldn’t be trusted, but Red was his best friend and no one was going to hurt him.

With wide eyes and fur bristling, Woof finally saw the cage for the very first time and the terrified boy trapped inside. Panic raced through him and he nosed at the latch, trying to pull the door open with his teeth, but the cage was wedged shut.  _Hang on, I’m going to get you out of there!_

“Woof, Woof come on,” Red begged, and doubt and fear wiggled deeper into his brain. For the first time since they’d met, it felt like Woof didn’t understand him, and it almost sounded like he was hurt. Then he gasped as his best friend growled, all angry dandelion poof, and cheered as quietly as he could manage. Everything was going to be okay! Woof was going to save him! They were - wait, no!

“Where are you going?” He hissed, pressing as hard as he could against the bars of the cage, waving. He couldn’t see his best friend anywhere. What if  the monster got to him again? “No, Woof, don’t leave me!” He could feel the blood draining out of his face, terror rearing its ugly head. “ _Please_ , Woof. Don’t leave me…”

The little wolf seemed to sink into the shadows, black on black and disappearing before small brown hands wrapped themselves around the bars of the cage. A young boy crouched in the flickering light from the fireplace, dark hair the same color as Woof’s fur curled wildly around his head like a halo and his warm brown eyes were alight with mischief. He didn’t wear a single stich of clothing, but didn’t seem to even notice as he grinned brightly at the trapped human and brought a finger to his lips to warn Red to silence. “Shhhh.”

One moment was all it took for the tides to change, and Red’s eyes bugged out of his skull. He fell over with a yelp, pedaling away from the stranger as fast as he could. Where had this kid been hiding? Who was he!? What was going on?!

“You stay back!” He ordered, trying to inject as much confidence in his tone as he could muster. “My best friend’s the biggest baddest wolf in the woods, and he’s gonna kick your ass if you try anything!”

Woof could do anything. Woof could save them both. Woof was… the biggest baddest  _wolf_  in the woods. A wolf, a dangerous monster with big fangs and evil eyes who ate everything and could disguise themselves as humans. Realization hit him like a freight train, and Red didn’t think he could ever get back up. It had never come up before, not when he trusted his best friend with his life and they were too busy having a good time, not when the pup shivered in the night and kept Red from feeling lonely. Woof was a wolf. A wolf! A good wolf, maybe the only good wolf ever, but Woof was a WOLF!

“Woof? Is that you?”

The boy’s smile grew even wider, delight brightening his smudgy face. He nodded silently, curls bouncing as he gestured his friend to be quiet again. Peter was still around somewhere, lurking in the dark and maybe trying to hunt someone else to force into his pack. If they could make it far enough away from the cabin’s magic, maybe they could find their way back to their part of the forest and get home again before he even noticed the two boys were gone.

Woof smothered a giggle, trying his best to keep his voice down. Red thought he was a big bad wolf! His cheeks burned with pride and he couldn’t help but puff his chest out a little, feeling more like the giant, deadly wolves of legend instead of a scruffy, too-thin seven year old.  He wasn’t going to let the other boy down, they had to get out of here before Peter got back. Scott was definitely not going to eat the only friend he had!

He cautiously balanced on the balls of his feet and tried not to tip himself over as he struggled with the latch to the cage. It was heavy and Woof threw his weight against the handle until it latch finally clicked and the door creaked open. He froze with his heart in his throat, waiting for the monster wolf to swoop down and stop them, but the candy cabin seemed empty and he tugged the door open with a scrape of metal and bone against the flagstones.

The dark haired boy hovered anxiously, not sure if he should get too close in case he scared the human. “Are you okay?” There was a slight trace of an accent in his soft voice, Woof forming each of the words carefully like they were foreign to him. “Are you hurt?”

Red didn’t reply. The little boy was too busy launching himself at his best friend. He held on as tight as he could, shoving his face into Woof’s shoulder and snuffling pathetically as he hugged the butts out of him. His cape billowed before fluttering around them, like it wanted to engulf them both, and its wearer wished they were anywhere but here. He rubbed his nose against sooty skin, trying not to get snot everywhere but not exactly caring when Woof was this warm. He was totally going to yell at him for keeping secrets and stuff, but first, they had to get home.

“You loser, why’d you let him do that?” he huffed, voice terribly wet as he pulled back, just far enough that he could squeeze Woof’s cheeks. Offering his friend a lopsided smile, he grumbled, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Red meant to run straight for the door, but he took a sharp turn when he noticed a bag in the corner and went about filling it with as many burgers and sausages as he could carry. Meat was expensive, and he never stopped to think about where they were running  _to_. It took him a beat longer to turn to Woof, expression souring, before he suggested, a little too quietly, “Maybe you should leave that lamp on the floor.”

His Dad always said that was dangerous.

Woof held him tight, holding on to the other boy like he could keep them both safe. He’d been so worried Red would have been afraid of him like this or turn him away if he shifted. Wolves were frightening enough, the thought they could pass unnoticed among humans had them forming mobs with pitchforks and torches. This was nice and for a moment, wrapped up in his best friend with a warm red cloak around them both, Woof knew  _this_  was home. Peter’s false pack couldn’t come close to the real thing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Couldn’t think right.” The wolf didn’t know if it really was some kind of magic or if it was just the effect of being near another wolf after so long, but the world felt so much clearer now. He wouldn’t let Peter into his head again. The boy clung to Red’s hand and carefully set the lantern on the floor. They’d have to run in the darkness, but he wasn’t afraid. He could see in the night and he’d lead his best friend home.

“Oh, pup.” The voice slid like a blade from the shadows as Peter loomed in the cabin’s doorway. “I thought you were so happy to finally find a pack again. You’re going to have to learn to listen to me if you want to stay.”

“I don’t want to stay!” Woof barked back, trying to put himself between the older wolf and his best friend. “I want to go home.”

“You are home.”

“No, he’s not!” Red yelled, puffing up his chest. Cowering behind his bag of treats wasn’t an option anymore, not when this monster wanted to take his friend away. “He’s coming with me, and you can’t stop us!”

The older wolf smiled with too many teeth, and maybe he could. Red gulped audibly. Maybe he  _could_ , but he wasn’t going to let Woof go without a fight.

“Silly little brat.” Their captor barely spoke above a whisper, but the cadence of his voice sounded like gravel dragging on gravel. He stalked towards them. There was no other word for it. Moving like a wolf on the hunt, eyes flashing a terrifying red that left Red breathless. Then Woof charged at full speed. Red watched in horror as his friend was tossed aside like a sack of potatoes. He screamed, running right after him, launching himself at Peter’s head and holding on as tight as he could.

Woof picked himself off the floor and shook himself off, trying to reorient the world. With a howl, he threw himself back into the fray and sent Peter staggering back. It was an uncoordinated attack, both boys flailing at a dangerous predator with no skill, much too small to hurt him and more likely to hit themselves than land a devastating blow. Peter just laughed and tried to shake the boys off. “I’m not sure I approve of your companions, pup. I wanted you to kill him with me, but I suppose I could show you how it’s done. You have so much to learn if you want to be in my pack.”

The pup could feel Peter’s words try and hook themselves in his mind, the cabin whispering in his ears to listen. To surrender. This was what he wanted and it could give him everything if he just stopped fighting. “I don’t want to be in your pack!” He snarled as the little wolf latched on to the older wolf’s ankles, gnawing against the bone as hard as he could.

Peter snarled, thrown off balance and stumbled backwards. He kicked the lamp that spilled burning oil across the floor, burning with a whoosh of flame.

Red held on tight, scrambling to spider monkey his way around the terrifying monster because his life depended on it, and so did his best friend’s. He swung tiny fists at Peter’s head, screaming again and again like he was trying to bring the house down. He scratched at the older wolf’s eyes and cheeks, tried to stuff his fingers in his nose, pulled his hair. It all came crashing down when he  _bit_ , tearing so hard into the soft fleshy part of his ear and pulling as hard as his little teeth could manage. The change was instantaneous. The beast howled, and for a second, Red didn’t know what was happening as he soared through the air, landing hard on his bag of burgers and sausages.

He shook himself off, getting to his feet even when the world spun, and the entire cabin seemed to shake. Smoke rose into the air. Everything was so incredibly hot. He couldn’t flake out now! Woof needed him! With a yell, he ran at Peter’s other leg, toppling the other man over. Fire licked up Peter’s arms, but Red didn’t notice. He was too busy grabbing Woof by the wrist and running out of the cabin as quickly as his little feet could carry him.

When Red faltered, the wolf took over, bright brown eyes flashing a brilliant red as they fled through the woods, a bag of meats and candy bouncing on the human’s back. Yet as a terrible howl tore through the night, it didn’t feel like they’d gotten far enough.

Woof clung to his best friend, tripping and stumbling through the dark forest as the enchanted cabin burned brightly behind them. The old magics that clung to the place screamed as loudly as Peter, and the wolf shuddered, ice cold terror racing up his spine. It was an accident! They hadn’t meant for that to happen, they were just trying to escape. No one was supposed to get hurt.

But they were safe and the monster was gone, it had been such a close thing. If they’d been a little too slow or not clumsy enough, then Red might be dead and who knows what could have happened to him if the older wolf had sunk his claws back into his mind? He grasped at his friend’s bright hood, dulled an almost black in the darkness, and tugged insistently for the other boy to stop. Woof wheezed for air, chest tight with fear but gamely trying to keep it under control. The worst was behind them, but that didn’t mean he had any idea where they were or how to get home again, or even what other creature lurked between the safety of the Stilinski’s cabin and the ink black woods that swallowed the young boys in shadow.

He took a shuddering breath, trying not to cry for a wolf who wanted to kill the only friend he had. Peter Hale was a monster, but he was a wolf and now he was gone just like all the others. Woof didn’t have to like him to grieve his loss.

The boys ran until their legs trembled so badly they couldn’t move an inch further. Maybe Woof was trying to be brave, but Red curled up in his best friend’s arms and bawled his eyes out. He bullied the other boy into a ball, curling up at the base of a big tree, clinging like he was sure that Woof would disappear. Worse, that other wolf would catch up with them, and they wouldn’t be able to fight back. He cried for the friend he almost lost, and the monster he’d seen. He cried because he didn’t know if he’d see his dad again, and the smell of ash and crackle of fire still haunted his memories. If they hid under their cloak long enough, maybe the world outside wouldn’t look so bad when they peaked out of it.

“Don’t go, Woof,” he rasped, voice shot, his tiny shoulders trembling. Each sob brought along a wave of hiccups, but in the middle of the night, no one could see how snotty Red really was. “Don’t leave me, okay? Promise. Please promise.”

Red didn’t know how long they hid, holding hands and hugging as tightly as they could, but the light of a swinging lantern reflected off bright red. When his hood was pulled back, the first thing they saw was the Woodsman’s relieved smile.

The wolf couldn’t hold back his own tears as his best friend sobbed and buried his face into Red’s shoulder. The world was a scary place in the dark and it was just the two of them lost and alone. A wolf had been screaming just like his mom and there’d been so much fire. All he wanted to do was go home again, curl up under Red’s downy blankets and hide away where things at least felt safe again. He curled his fingers into Red’s cloak, shamelessly wiping away his tears before dabbing a relatively clean corner beneath the human’s eyes.

“I won’t go anywhere.” Woof said as he gasped for breath, pouring his entire heart into the words. “I’m never gonna leave you Red, I promise. I’m gonna be your friend forever.” He’d never meant anything more in his entire life.

He stared up at the Woodsman as the man grabbed Red up in his arms and hugged him tightly. “Don’t ever do that again! I was so worried” Stilinski admonished as Red sobbed his apologies. “I thought something had happened to you.” He put his son down, letting Red cling to his side as he regarded the other boy.

Woodsman Stilinski had lived in this forest for most of his life and he could recognize there was something almost feral and inhuman about the dark haired boy that shook with fear. The child seemed like he was poised to either run or fight for his life, caught between warring instincts for the sake of the promise he’d made.

 _I’m never gonna leave_.

“Are you okay?” Stilinski knelt slowly, speaking in a soft calming voice to Woof whose eyes darted to Red before nodding. Whatever this child was, he’d been through something terrible and the Woodsman couldn’t just abandon him alone in this forest at night. “Red, why don’t you give your friend your cloak for now to keep him warm on the way home?”

Red babbled and cried, burying his face in his father’s hip. Relief had never been so painful or so overwhelming, and the little boy didn’t think he could stay standing. Then the Woodsman turned to his wolf, and Red gasped. All it took was an instant, and somewhere in his mind, he realized with a slow sort of horror that this might be the end. Wolves were supposed to be bad. Wolves were mean and scary. They hurt people and pretended to be them, even this far from the border. Woof was the exception to the rule. His dad didn’t know that yet,  _couldn’t_ know that, but if his dad took his friend away, Red didn’t know if he’d fight back.

“He saved me.” He whispered, and didn’t know if he was loud enough to be brave. “He’s my friend.”

But the Woodsman was kind, and Red ran to his pup, drowning him in his bright red cloak. They clung to each other the rest of the trek home, doing their best to walk first, and then hanging from the Woodsman’s back, like lemurs.

The Woodsman watched with suspicion when both boys headed straight for Red’s bedroom without prompt, collapsing in bed before he could help them take off their shoes, but he kissed his son goodnight, and watched the little feral child bury into his arm. He only noticed the bag they’d dropped in the foyer on his way out. Of all the things he expected, a bag full of gems and precious stones was not at the top of his list, but that one stick of salami sort of was.

When the Woodsman returned, in the early hours of the morning, he was surprised to find his son sitting up waiting for him, the large broom in hand. Red could barely keep his eyes open, but he puffed up his chest and squared his jaw. Behind him, his new friend shoved his face into Red’s pillow, slowly curling around the other boy’s hip.

“You’re not gonna take Woof away,” Red slurred, face scrunched up unhappily. It had taken him the night to find his courage, but their big secret was out.

Woof, like a…  _oh._

Red’s lower lip trembled. “I’m going to protect him.”

“Grzegorz.” Woodsman Stilinski interrupted softly, and Red only tightened his grip on the broom. He swung wild when his dad got too close, but when the Woodsman took a seat on his bed, Red launched himself into his arms and begged him to let the wolf stay. It was enough to wake their guest, but all the Woodsman did was call the pup closer.

“What’s your name, son?” He asked, as the dark-haired boy with expressive brown eyes fought to keep himself from bolting.

“Scott, sir.” The wolf answered, and that was how the Woodsman found himself with two arms full of soggy, clinging children. He would live with them both until the end of his days.


	3. Chapter 3

Woof was normally the well behaved one. Maybe not  _completely_  well behaved, but the one who apologized when they found themselves in trouble though it never stopped him from causing it. He was polite and helpful, patient and gentle. He happily bullied Red into helping with the housework and was properly contrite when he misread human social queues. He’d even gotten used to wearing clothes when he was asked to, even if they still felt too tight and scratched against his skin.

But the combination of uncomfortable “nice” clothes and the thought having to face an entire town full of humans had brought the little boy to his limits. He lay completely limp on the floor, boneless and determined to stay right here in this exact spot unless they figured out a way to drag him all the way to town. He’d been there a few times before, but it was always too busy and too loud. The Woodsman was a quiet man and Red was as wild as any wolf pup. They knew the woods and how to live as part of it. Most importantly, Woof knew he was safe with these people who’d taken him in as part of their family. The town was full of strangers who could turn on him the moment they found out he was a wolf with a human’s smile.

“I don’t want to go! I promise I won’t get in trouble while you’re gone.”

Red snickered unhelpfully, and it didn’t look like he planned on being helpful any time soon. The little boy hovered over his friend, wiggling his foot in the wolf’s face then wrenching it back before Woof could take a swipe at it.

“Come on, loser, you gotta move.” He singsonged, cloak flapping as he circled his roommate like wounded prey. Red was dressed in his most presentable outfit, the one with the least number of holes and faintest grass stains. It was a long trip by cart, and their donkey might kick that up an extra  _hour_ of travel time if it was feeling particularly ornery, but to Red’s young mind, town was FUN! There was always so much to see, and today was especially important, because the troll traders were coming in with all their fanciful ware, and his dad would need them both to carry all the things the Woodsman brought to trade. They could have candy and sweet cakes, too!

He ran to Woof’s feet and grabbed his left before trying his best to drag his friend down the foyer and closer to the front door. Red was very ambitious, but ambition wasn’t enough to get him far when his arms were noodle thing. It took him a second to regain his bearings, then he squatted over his best friend’s face and did his best to collect a fart.

“Nooooo!” The wolf wailed mournfully, swatting at his best friend to get away before he could be gross. “If I bite your butt, you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself.” He huffed, hauling himself to his feet by Red’s cloak. It wasn’t an idle threat, the human knew exactly how to get his way and rarely fought fair, Woof had to bring out the big guns which would turn the whole thing into a wrestling match for superiority. On a normal day, it would have been fine, but the Woodsman wanted to leave early enough so they could get back before dark. It was a long trip into town and traveling with two young boys on the road at night could be dangerous.

“Nobody’s biting or doing anything to anyone.” Stilinski said with an infinite patience. He’d long ago accepted his son’s eccentricities and Woof seemed to follow suit. “We’re not getting your nice clothes dirty. Go get your things and the both of you go sit in the back of the wagon.” It was odd to have the wolf as a member of their family, but the little boy was sweet and genuine. After all the months together, the Woodsman knew that there was no monster lurking in the boy. He was just another child who needed a home and thankfully, they had enough to take him. More than enough thanks to the sack of jewels both boys had brought home from the woods that first night they met that was carefully hidden in a loose flagstone by their hearth.

There was no arguing with the Woodsman and Woof’s shoulders slumped. He grabbed Red’s hood and yanked it down over his friend’s face before taking off towards the wagon, ignoring Red’s indignant yowl. At least he could get there first!

Nothing could prepare the Woodsman for how loud his house had become on a daily basis, but not so secretly, he liked the change, even when the boys were being challenging. Like an unspoken rule guided them, the race was on before it could start. Red took off running before he could adjust his hood. Gleeful laughter followed Woof all the way to the cart, and one of the boys scared the donkey.

When the Woodsman caught up, they were tucked into the back of the cart, carefully poised between dozens of wooden figurines and laughing at each other. There was a smudge of dirt on Woof’s cheek, but none on his clothes. Stilinski knew how to count a win. They both almost toppled over when the cart started to move, but the Woodsman didn’t plan on stopping unless one of them fell off or puked. Trips into town were almost as adventurous as town itself.

Red growled, baring his teeth, like he was the one who popped fur when he sneezed  _big_  enough. He tried to bite Woof’s cheek, before dissolving into stupid giggles, squished against his best friend. “Come on, Woof. Town’s fun! We’re gonna go to the bakery and eat EVERYTHING!”

Woof pouted out from beneath his unruly black curls. “Town is stupid.”

“ _You’re_  stupid!” Red launched himself at his best friend. The wrestled, elbowing each other in the gut and snarling like animals before they broke apart and laughed until their stomachs hurt at the Woodsman’s stern ‘ _Boys’_. At least one of them had the good sense to look contrite. “See?” Red panted. “You are stupid. Your name isn’t even Woof.”

The dark haired boy shoved his friend in the shoulder before flopping back into his seat.“I never said my name was Woof, you said my name was Woof.”

“Dude, I clearly asked you your name and you said Woof.”

“Nuh uh. I said my name was Scott, but you couldn’t understand me. You’re not very good at listening.” He teased.

“I’m the best of listening! I’m like, the king of listening and you’re just as dumb as your name.”

“Your name is dumb too!”

“I never said it wasn’t,” Red frowned, throwing the Woodsman a dirty look as he blushed a splotchy red across his face.

“Gzregoz.” Stilinski interrupted without looking back at them, and Woof howled with delight. He squared his shoulders and pursed his lips. Concentrating hard, the pup tried to force his mouth to shape the word but he couldn’t figure out how to make the sound. It was too foreign, too strange. Eventually he gave up and settled for sticking his tongue out at his friend, furrowing his eyebrows. “Red.”

“Red!” The human agreed. Woof tucked the name away, promising himself he’d get it right, even if he had to practice every day.

Woof rolled his eyes, but Red’s infectious enthusiasm had taken hold. Thinking of Town was easier with the thought of stuffing his face with warm, right out of the oven sweet cakes almost made up for the whole experience. Maybe the baker would dredge them in cinnamon and sugar again! He’d never had anything like them before. If he could just figure out the baker’s closely guarded secret, maybe he could make them himself and eat them all the time. The wolf finally relented, giggling as he wrestled with his best friend and settled in among the elaborately carved wooden goods they were bringing to market with them.

“Tell me about your princess again and how we’re going to have all these adventures to save her?”

“Not just any princess,  _Princess Rapunzel_ ,” Red corrected, slinging an arm across the wolf’s shoulders and dragging him closer so he could whisper conspiratorially into his ear. There were hearts in his eyes and a sigh on his tongue, but love didn’t have to happen at first sight to hit hard. Red was already planning to invite all the knights they’d meet on his adventures to his wedding with the princess. 

“She’s the most beautiful princess in the world,” he gushed, certain that there was a regularly held princess court where the princess superlatives were given wanted. “You should see her picture in all those ‘Heroes Wanted’ posters, bro. But her dad, King Martin, got into this right old mess with some kinda witch, and she got taken away! No one knows where because witches are tricky like that, but if you ask me, it’s probably in some magic moving castle that always moves so no one can find her!”

It made perfect sense. Obviously the King was wasting his time by talking to any other hero. Red would have this case solved in a second. “And I bet she has a fleet of vampires to guard her!”

 _Princess Rapunzel_. Woof had heard about her non-stop since the posters had made their way into the woods. The whole kingdom was in an uproar about the missing princess, snatched away by some evil force away from her royal family. She was about their age, just a child and Red had become smitten immediately. Woof had even found several stolen posters in their room and his friend could go on and on about her beauty and her strawberry-blonde hair.

Woof didn’t know if it was the princess or the call to adventure that Red loved the most. Sure, he was all for rescuing someone who’d been stolen away, but when Red talked about it, it turned into more than just a simple mission. It was a hero’s quest against brigands and magical beasts. There was treasure and danger and epic fights against evil dragons, which Woof completely agreed with. Dragons  _were_  scary, though he still wasn’t clear on what exactly they looked like. It was even more exciting than the other stories Red would tell as they huddled beneath their blanket and whispered back and forth in the dark. His best friend had the most vivid imagination and Woof could almost see the battles and ogres and beautiful princesses that seemed a lifetime away from their tiny cabin. He loved the stories where the wolf was the hero the best, even if he knew Red made them all up.

But Rapunzel, that was  _their_  story. It wasn’t some shining prince from a far off kingdom or a seventh son of a seventh son off to seek their fortune. It was the two of them, best friends who fought side by side and traveled to distant lands. They were both heroes and he loved it. Or maybe he loved the way Red would light up whenever he talked about it. This was going to be their lives someday and he couldn’t wait. “A fleet of vampires? How are we supposed to fight vampires? They are all gross and dead, plus they bite back. We’re gonna have to make a plan.”

“Of course, I’m gonna have a plan.” Red insisted, looking almost insulted that Woof would think so little of him. He patted his best friend’s chest, giving him a reassuring snuggle. “You’re the only bite-y thing allowed, dude. Besides, we’re gonna cream those blood suckers, and like, ride off into the sunset, but first we’re gonna get magic! We gotta get magic to find the witch, and we’re gonna cross the entire kingdom! Maybe we’ll drop by Cinderella’s kingdom, too; I hear it’s a really magical place, and they’ve got the best pumpkin pies since ever?”

Red babbled on excitedly, going into a whole lot of detail about how they were going to take down the  _first_ Minotaur they bumped into, and how Woof would have a patented victory howl because “when you patent something it means you make it and you own it.” At the front of the cart, his dad only sighed a little, shaking his head, as they rode closer and closer to town. Eventually, he wasn’t going to be able to use their age as an excuse to keep the boys from adventuring, and he wasn’t sure if he dreaded that more or less than he looked forward to a quiet home.

“And then.” Red paused, taking in a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Woof’s face, like he couldn’t afford to miss any reaction. “You’re gonna be the biggest, baddest most famous hero wolf  _ever._ And you’ll be my right-hand knight when I’m king.”

They already had a plan and that made all the monsters, vampires and minotaurs combined, seem like nothing. They were going to be great heroes and Scott thought about all the good he could do if people started to think wolves weren’t just evil or murderers. If he could be a real hero, then maybe the humans would see they were just like anyone else? He could try and get people to stop hunting the wolves, maybe give them somewhere safe to live where they wouldn’t be forced to run every few years. Red would help him, of course. They’d do this together! If Red was a king, he would make it a rule that no one would be able to hurt wolves ever again.

“I’m gonna look awesome in armor, you’re going to have to wear poofy pants with a silly crown.” Woof teased. Saving a princess was one thing, but he wasn’t so sure about marrying one. Girls seemed mysterious and kind of gross, though he couldn’t say he knew any. He’d seen the human girls in town the few times he’d been dragged out of the cabin, but they always seemed so poofy in their layered skirts and utterly incomprehensible. Woof wasn’t even sure how they moved with so many clothes on.

“I don’t wanna be the  _baddest_ , Red. Can I be the goodest most famous hero wolf ever?” He asked before plucking at the hem of the other boy’s sleeve. “We’re still gonna be best friends when you’re king, right?”

“Forever.” Red promised, with a hand over his heart and the certainty only a child’s faith could muster. It was as true as the sky was blue. Red and Woof were going to be best friends, the bestest friends in the whole world, and no one would ever be able to get between them, not dragons or trolls or evil witches could tear them apart. “Not only that, we’re gonna be the best hero friends ever, the best  _goodest_  hero friends. Even when you’re jealous of my awesome pants.”

Then in the spirit of bestest hero friends ever, he shoved the wolf’s face into his armpit and tried to smother him to death. The Woodsman disapproved very much, and very loudly, when they almost knocked each other out of the cart, but the little trouble makers were still giggling when they pulled into town.  

The town seemed to come alive, swelling with more people than Woof had ever seen. The trolls didn’t come often, and when they did, they made sure to make a bang. They brought wagon after wagon of all sorts of goods from all the corners of the known universe, all of it lightly sprinkled with the unmistakable scent of troll body odor. Everyone within riding distance flocked to town, and the quiet streets were bustling with action.

“Mind yourself, boys.” Stilinski said, just as his son yelled, “LOOK THEY HAVE CANDY STRING!”

Woof’s spirited tussling subsided as they rode through town and he pressed himself to his best friend’s side with dark eyes wide. It was always nerve wracking to be around so many humans, not all of them could be as trusted as the Stilinskis and if they ever found out what he was, then he’d be as good as dead. He’d seen what they could do when they were organized against you and the only thing more dangerous than one human was an angry mob of them. It was difficult to keep his shape when he was afraid and if he wasn’t careful, he knew he could pop his tail or his ears. The wolf ran his hand through his hair just to check and make sure nothing was out of place.

There were others besides humans in town today and Scott had never seen a real troll before. He couldn’t keep himself from gaping at their deep green skin and long tusks. Some had carved intricate shapes into the teeth, making look fearsome and wonderful to the little boy. Maybe they brought magical things from far away? Or maybe some kind of food he’d never had before! What did trolls eat anyways, was it as good as salami?

“Let’s go!” The wolf grabbed his best friend’s hand as the cart creaked to a stop, letting Red yank him to the ground and off into the crowd. The Woodsman watched his boys disappear and shook his head, hoping they didn’t get into too much trouble before the day was over. So much for having helpers.

The only thing to warn adults that their knees were in danger of colliding with soft squishy bits was the bright glare of Red’s cloak, and he dragged Woof everywhere he went.

Candy string would have to wait. The first stop was  _always_  the baker’s, where sweet cakes were glazed right in front of them. The boys pressed their dirty fingers and pudgy noses against the glass, salivating as fresh buns were dipped in melted sugar and cinnamon, until one of the baker’s twelve sons shooed them away. Red dug deep into his pockets to pull out a sack of painstakingly saved copper pieces, and counted just as many as he needed before handing them over for a pack of warm rolls. It was hard work sitting in the back of a cart all day! He waved their bounty in front of Woof’s face triumphantly. “Come on!”

They bobbed in and out of old haunts, smearing sticky sugar on their faces but never letting go of stickier hands. It was the new vendors that caught their attention most though. They waved to a smiling woman with smooth dark skin and kinky hair as she swam in a giant floating cup, and she waved with her hands and tail right back at them before showing them a collection of magical shells that sang and snapped. They followed around an angry leprechaun who just wanted to shine other people’s shoes, and yelled at them when they said they didn’t like wearing any. Red openly stared at the fierce looking trolls that towered over them, until Woof elbowed him in the spleen so hard, it probably ruptured, but in the end, Red had a magical bouncing ball that never stopped bouncing, a bag made of sweet seafoam that fizzed in his mouth, and unfortunately just one more sweet roll to his name.

“Aww,” he grumbled, holding up the last precious piece as they continued their trek through town. Then Red made the mistake of turning around. He screamed as a short scrawny boy in bright red made a grab for his roll, only to realize, he was looking at his own reflection.

Woof dissolved into giggles, doubling over as tears prickled in his eyes as Red shrieked. “It’s okay!” He tried to reassure his friend, tugging the human’s hood down over his eyes. “Even if you are super scary looking. Think about everyone who’s gotta look at you all day.” He teased before patting Red’s arm in apology. Making fun of his friend was fun, but he had to make sure he never actually hurt Red’s feelings.

The vendor’s cart practically glittered, with polished sliver and bright glass catching the sunlight and scattering it across the entire marketplace. There were mirrors in every shape and size, ones that stretched Woof’s reflection until he was six feet tall and ones that shrank him down until he was fat and round as a ball. Some were simple, shiny brass or metal that caught only blurred images but had strange shadows lurking in the corners even when no one looked into them. Others were tiny and ornate, handheld mirrors set in gold with fantastic gems set all along the handle.

The wolf was fascinated, staring at his own reflection in one of the larger mirrors. A thin young man in clean simple cotton stared back from under black curls, eyes wide and chocolate brown. His skin was dark and a smear of sticky jam still caught in the corner of his mouth, though he rubbed it away. He wasn’t as scrawny or small as he’d been the last time he’d seen himself, though he could barely recognize himself like this. His human face seemed foreign, almost one of them except for a certain wildness that clung to him in the way he moved or how his whole body could freeze when he was surprised. Woof might have seemed human, but there was something about him that spoke of an ‘otherness’ that set him apart if someone looked closely enough.

Woof shook himself, trying to keep himself from looking at the strange sight of himself without fur and wearing human clothes. He carefully ran his fingers through the pieces of glass on the vender’s cart, stopping when he saw two small pendants with matching oval-cut glass each set in the twisting branches of a tiny tree. “Oooh, wow. These are so pretty!”

Then all of a sudden there was a giant goofy face over Woof’s shoulder. Red stuffed two fingers to stretch both side of his mouth, waggling his tongue and crossing his eyes. Both boys broke out into stupid laughter, and the human’s arms and legs automatically went all around his scrawny friend, hanging on like a stubborn octopus, before the shopkeeper sent them a dirty look. If they broke anything, they’d have bad luck for longer than they’d been alive, but both boys ooh’d in unison, peering down at the trinkets with unapologetic fascination.

Red licked his fingers clean then wiped them on his best friend’s shirt before reaching for one. The branches of the trees that framed them were tightly intertwined, but when the boy pulled them apart, they came undone like taffy. Red gasped in delight, looking at how big and round his nose looked from the unflattering angle. He didn’t even need to look to hand Woof its counterpart, always aware of exactly where his best friend was. It felt like they knew each other their whole lives, and if Red could claim expertise in anything, it was his Woof. That was why when the smooth glass shimmered and its image shifted, Red knew he was staring up his best friend’s nose before he got enough wits about it to scream.

“Careful boys,” the vendor warned, appearing almost as if out of thin air. The dwarf plucked the mirror from Red’s clammy hands before it could drop, and Red only got a quick glimpse of Woof’s nose disappearing while the glass was cleaned. “Seems you found our Gemina mirrors.”

“Gemina mirrors?” The wolf asked, trying to get a better look at the pendant mirrors as they swung in the vendor’s hand. The two boys were scruffy, even in their best clothes, and the merchant didn’t want them to leave smudgy fingerprints all over his merchandise, but he couldn’t help but show off. He held up one glass towards the boys and another cupped in his hand. He stuck his tongue out into one mirror, his reflection making faces at the boys.

Woof yelped in surprise, clasping his hands together and bouncing on the balls of his feet. They were beautiful and he itched to get his hands on them. “How much are they?” He dug around in his pocket for the few coppers the Woodsman had given him for their trip, though most had already been spent on food. It wouldn’t possibly be enough. Magic was expensive and humans had a complicated, confusing barter system.

“Twenty gold pieces for the pair.” The vendor said as Woof’s shoulders dropped in disappointment.  _Twenty_ gold pieces?! That was an unheard of fortune. The only way he could afford any of that was if they used some of the treasure hidden beneath the Stilinski’s hearth, but the Woodsman had said they weren’t allowed to touch it. Treasure brought trouble and if anyone realized they had so much, it could cause a problem. Woof didn’t really understand. If you had pretty things to trade, why wouldn’t you use them? He slipped his coins back into his pocket.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t see how the vendor’s face fell. Dealing with magic had taught the glass smith that sometimes customers chose their items, and sometimes the items chose the customer. Fate had no sense of business, but that was the risk you took when dealing with enchantments. The pendant mirrors sparkled and flashed in the light, catching the reflections of the human boy and his lupine friend. “You’re lucky, these just so happen to be on sale.”

Red gasped, his eyes going wide as he scurried closer, sticky paws eager to grab. He’d crawl all over his best friend to get to them. Like moths to a flame, they were enchanted by the trinkets, even more so than the eternally bouncing ball in their bag (and that was still bouncing on a last scrap of candy wrapper).

“How much?” He whispered, trying not to scare the vendor off lest he take his sale with him. Red shoved a hand in his pocket, digging up the last of his change. Then he shoved his other hand in Woof’s pocket, doing the same, even if it earned him a scowl and a smack.

“How much do you want them?” The vendor asked with a well-practiced air of mystery. The act dropped like a stone as he watched the boys pool together twelve bits of copper. Fate really was lousy for business. Red exchanged a meaningful look with his best friend, and soon, their newest toy joined their little pile of treasure, and a mostly-eaten bag of seafoam, one of Woof’s partially carved wooden projects, and a shiny pebble. The boys were sad but determined, and anyone but a master glass smith would have overlooked how the light of his ware brightened with their hope.

“Is it enough?” Red asked, puffing up his chest and trying to make himself look taller, but his hood kept falling into his eyes. Somewhere along the line, his hand had found his friend’s, fingers tangled together like they were worried the other would disappear.

The vendor looked down at the two boys, both so earnest, like their few coppers and scraped together treasures would be enough to buy an almost priceless magical treasure. The Gemina mirrors winked again and he sighed, knowing when he was beaten. He really should get out of this business if he wanted to make more of a profit, he heard the magic carpet merchants were usually a bit more successful and their goods a little less temperamental. The older man carefully peeled the sticky coppers from the boys’ hands and gave them the chains to the pendant mirrors. “Looks like it’s just enough.”

Woof gasped, fear of humans forgotten in his excitement as he threw his arms around the merchant in thanks. Red squawked. Woof hugged the merchant, and Red hugged him, squishing his best friend close in case the vendor got any ideas and tried to steal him away. His roommate was one of a kind, after all. No mirror could compete. Then he pulled on Woof’s ear, so he didn’t get a big head.

Now this was a  _treasure_. Sparkly rocks were pretty and you could trade them for lots of snacks, but these were something magical and special. Woof looped one chain around his neck, admiring the little pendant that flashed in the sun, catching reflections of his best friend in the glass. “Look at how pretty it is! Red, hey Red, we won’t ever have to get lost again. I’ll always be able to see you!” The wolf breathed on the necklace, watching the glass fog over and clear, still showing Red’s grinning face instead of his own reflection.

“Just be careful with those, boys.” The vendor said, trying to catch their attention before it slipped away entirely. “Magic can be a dangerous thing, even in something so small.”

“They’re so cool!” Red looped the other chain around his neck, bringing his mirror so close to his face, Woof would see the little freckles across his nose. His own kept fogging up and oh! OH! “Stop breathing on it, dude, I can’t see you!”

Red elbowed the other boy in the side, leaning close so his forehead rested against the wolf’s and they could examine their treasures together. Then like he was sharing a secret, the little boy promised, “I’m never gonna lose you, Woof.”

They still turned towards the vendor, nodding solemnly at a warning they barely heard. Young boys with mischief and games on their mind still understood when they were being told to listen - and how to quickly make their worriers go away.

“Thank you, mister!” Red laughed over his shoulder, but he grabbed his best friend by the hand and dragged him into the crowds, before the merchant could change his mind. The Gemina mirrors settled around their necks, twinkling ever so slightly, like they were laughing at their new owners, and for as long as they had them, Red and Woof would never get lost.

The boys had to try out their new treasures, they were both too excited not too. The wolf had a moment of panic as Red let go with a wink and dashed off into the crowd to make it to the other side of the village to test if they could still see each other. Scott swallowed his fear and took off in the other direction. Even with all these humans, no one was going to hurt him as long as he wasn’t alone and with his new necklace, Red could always find him.

He wove his way through the marketplace with breathless laughter, hand wrapped tight around the mirror to keep it safe. The young boy skidded to a stop, tucking himself behind one of the booths at the end of square and peered down into the glass. Red’s face squinted back at him, making faces until the wolf giggled. He made some right back, shoving his finger up his nose and rolling back his eyes. “Grrrrr. You look dumb!”

His best friend said something, but Woof couldn’t hear the words through the mirror, so he just stuck out his tongue. “Nyah nyah nyah.”

“Nyaaaah.” A strange voice teased right back, making the little wolf jump. He peeked over the edge of the cart, looking up at the rows of swaying golden cages hanging for display.

“Hello?” Woof breathed softly.

“Hello.” The voice echoed as bright as glass bells. “Hello, hello, hello.” The word echoed through the cages and Scott caught his breath. In each one, a tiny creature buzzed against the glided bars, seemingly made out of light. There was a flutter of iridescent wings and the barest shape of something barely humanoid as they flit back and forth, glowing and shimmering in a broken rainbow.

“Oooooh, wow.”

“Help us, little wolf.” One of the fairies called out to him, the cry taken up by the others. Woof shushed them frantically, looking around to see if anyone had heard the creatures call him a wolf.

“I can’t, I’ll get in trouble!” He hissed, hopping anxiously from one foot to the next.

“Please, little wolf? They’re going to take out wings and make us pets. Please help us!”

That was  _horrible_! There were humans out there who’d buy fairies as pets? They were just as smart as anybody, they weren’t animals. Did the troll merchant know when he’d captured them? It wasn’t right, no one should be able to catch or sell people like this just because they weren’t human. It would be like someone trying to make him into just a dog! “Okay, okay. Just shhhh. Don’t tell anyone about me.”

Woof had to stretch up on his tip toes, too short and struggling to reach the latches. He unhooked them all as quickly as he could, snagging the last one just as the merchant returned with a shout. The boy shrieked as the fairies chirped mischievously, darting through the market in blinding streaks of light as the entire town erupted in gasps.

The vicious troll roared, as color exploded through the streets. It was beautiful but blinding, the result of days upon days of pent up magic. The faeries came together as one, laughing like they were seedlings again, and there was nowhere in town that didn’t hear bells. It made the humans wish they could own magic all the more.

Across town, a little boy in a bright red cloak had screamed himself hoarse at the mirror in his hand. He’d watched the crime in a panic. Through the magical mirror, the faeries were almost too bright to even see, barely more than balls of energy as they danced and flew, pleading with their would-be savior to help them escape. Red knew how the story ended way before his friend made a decision. With a hand still holding back his nose, he shrieked, “SCOTT!”

But sound didn’t travel through their magic mirrors. It was already too late.

He ran as fast as he could, as the town tore itself apart. People scrambled to catch glimmering balls of light, while others tripped over themselves to escape the mad rush. Opportunistic thieves tried their luck, and furious shopkeepers fended them off. Through it all, Red with aching legs and a pounding heart, wracking his head for any clue as to where his wolf could be. It clicked in the worst sort of way, and Red groaned in frustration. Then he turned straight towards the source of the pandemonium, yelling, “DAD! DAAAD!”

Woof had trouble of his own. The offended vendor grabbed at him with bony fingers, lips peeled back to show off a terrifyingly sharp smile. “You little worm! I’m going to tear off your head!”

“No!” The little wolf twisted in the troll’s grip, trying to escape. This wasn’t what he wanted! He was in so much trouble. If only he wasn’t wearing these stupid clothes, he wouldn’t have gotten caught. The troll shook Woof until his head spun, dark curls flopping over his face.

“Do you know what you’ve done? How much this is going to cost me? I spent weeks hunting those fairies down!”

“It’s not right.” Woof gasped in fear, trying to breathe as he struggled to get away. “You can’t hurt people like that.”

“They’re not people, you little thief. Who’s going to pay me for this mess?” The troll yelled, squeezing his hand until the boy wailed. “I’ll take it out of your skin!”

The wolf lashed out before he could stop himself, eyes flaring red and fangs filling his mouth as he bit down on the troll’s arm as hard as he could. He was still small and barely drew blood, but the shift surprised the merchant long enough to drop Woof who took off into the chaos without looking back. The market place was a riot, too many humans pressed in from every direction and he was sure the troll was going to give chase. Woof couldn’t control the shift, furry ears poking through his hair and tail streaming out behind him as he ran. Someone was going to notice, he needed to get out.

Woof ran full tilt into his best friend, sending them both toppling over in a flutter of red fabric. “Help!”

Like a giant swoop-y thing, Red roared, slinging his cloak around his best friend and swaddling them both in the middle of the street, like a bright red pimple. At any other time, survival would have meant running for their lives, but the imposing figure of the Woodsman stepped in front of them, his axe on prominent display, and face drawn in anger.

The troll still charged, roaring as furiously as any lion, but before he could do so much as reach for a weapon, the Woodsman had him by the front of his shirt. “You’re responsible for this?” He asked, in a tone that was meant to carry. “Those are your faeries?”

All around them, travelers and locals alike were struggling to pick themselves up, but there were enough paying attention to draw attention. The troll’s booming voice only helped. “That worthless snot cost me gold!”

“If guarding a bunch of faeries is too much for you, you shouldn’t be carrying any at all.”

Hidden from a world that was just as cold as an enchanted forest, the boys huddled close. Red kept an arm wrapped around his roommate’s frame, keeping the wolf still. His face was scrunched in fear and confusion, and he gasped when he noticed the fur on his best friend’s face, whispering under his breath, “No, no, no, no…”

Gentle, fluttery hands that were far too clumsy smoothed across Woof’s face. Red made sure to lick them before trying to wipe away all lupine traces.

“Please, Woof, please,” he insisted, tracing the wolf’s twitching ears and scratching across his scalp. Woof had to make them go away, and Red didn’t know how to help!

“I-I can’t!” The wolf wailed, claws clinging to his best friend. His thin frame shook as he sobbed, terrified by the mob and his own broken control. They were going to burn him alive. They’d chase him, hunt him down and stab him full of pitchforks like they did to the others. They were all going to know, they were going to hate him! “I can’t make it go away, I didn’t mean to. Red, I  _can’t_.”

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face into Red’s chest and tried to force himself to look human again.  He startled at the human’s touch, but found himself relaxing as Red scratched his fingers through his hair. The other boy’s heart beat was just as wild and afraid as his own, but his hands felt good and the little wolf blocked out the noise of the marketplace to concentrate on how Red could find that one spot that always made his leg twitch. Woof took a deep breath, pretending that the world outside their red colored tent didn’t exist.

“It’s okay, Woof.” He repeated. Red would repeat it until it was the truth.  “We’re gonna be okay.” 

“That brat is yours?” The troll thundered. “He BIT me like some kind of wild animal!”

The Woodsman’s hand closed over the back of Red’s hood and hauled the boy to his feet. Woof scrambled out of the way, ducking behind Stilinski’s legs and wholly human again as the man held his son out to the troll. “Red, apologize and we’ll be on our way.”

“Not that one, the other one. He’s a beast!”

Automatically squirming and wrestling for his freedom, the  _beast_ bared his teeth, eyes wild, hair wilder. Red didn’t know exactly what happened, but there was one thing for certain. Anyone who made Woof sad was going to pay. 

“I’m sorry your face is stupid and you smell like farts!” He roared, swinging tiny fists like a man possessed. The Woodsman gave him a good shake, but it was nowhere as good as it could have been. Red frothed at the mouth, and on Stilinski’s other side, the little wolf had gone limp, exhausted, ashamed, but hesitantly relieved. 

The Woodsman rolled his eyes, lying as easily as his son could. “I think you’re confused. This little delinquent here is the troublemaker and he’s very sorry for what happened. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go give them a lecture on how to act in public.” He scooped both boys up, one under each arm. “And next time, maybe you shouldn’t be selling fairies in a public market, trade in magical creatures is forbidden in this kingdom.”

The Woodsman paused, just inches from the unfortunate troll.

“And if you continue to smuggle innocent creatures, there will be consequences.” It took a great deal of skill to be intimidating while holding two ragamuffins. Somehow, the Woodsman found a way.

The ride back home was significantly more subdued. Red refused to let go of his best friend, and every time his dad glanced his way, he plastered himself against the pup’s side, trying to make them both as small as possible while their twin mirrors sparkled in the fading light.

He still took Woof into his room when they got home, ignoring the way his son gasped, trying his best to shoehorn his way in. This time, he wouldn’t let him.

Woof kept his head down, ringing his hands against the front of his shirt. His tiny frame trembled like a leaf in the wind, and for the life of him, he couldn’t look the Woodsman in the eye. So Stilinski crouched in front of him, taking a cold hand in his. “Woof… Why did you do it?”

“They’re - they’re just as s-smart as anyone. You can’t sell people,” Woof tried to say, tried to repeat the idea that started everything, but this was it. This was the moment the Stilinskis told him to leave. He’d messed up, messed up real bad. His tongue tripped over his teeth, and he couldn’t stop tears from welling up in his eyes. He never expected to be pulled closer, but when he broke down, the Woodsman didn’t let him fall.

Before the Stilinski’s, Woof’s only experience with humans had been terrifying. They were the monsters that wolves talked about in hushed whispers, modeling themselves after so they could pass through their world unseen and unnoticed. They looked weak, but enough of them together and everything would burn. It wasn’t until he’d been adopted into this makeshift family that he realized how kind a human could be. Even though he’d caused so much trouble, the Woodsman protected him and wasn’t going to send him away. “I’m sorry!” The boy whimpered.

Nothing was going to keep Red from getting involved, especially if his father was going to punish his best friend. He pounded his fists against the door as hard as he could. “Don’t send him away!” Red shouted through the wood as loudly as he could. “If you send him away, I’m leaving too!” They weren’t idle threats, he’d run away in a minute if it meant protecting his friend. They’d be totally fine, they could live in tents and steal salamis from unsuspecting butchers like outlaws or something. With a sigh, the Woodsman unlatched the door and peered down at his son who squirmed awkwardly, most of his anger draining away under his father’s withering look.

“No one is sending anyone away. Ever.” He said, gesturing for Red to come closer and pulling both of his boys into a hug. “We’re just talking about how next time, you should talk to me before you let any magical creatures loose in the marketplace, okay?” Red looked defiant, but Woof hiccupped sadly and nodded. “Now, both of you go help unload the cart and then get cleaned up for dinner.”

The wolf gave the Woodsman one final, grateful hug and caught Red’s hand, pulling him outside before anyone could change their minds. “He’s not mad.” The boy whispered to his friend, breaking out into relieved smiles like the sun after a storm. “He’s not  _that_  mad. I get to stay.”

“You’ll always get to stay.”

They passed the rest of the evening on their best behavior to their father’s relief, only kicking each other a few times under the dinner table and even helping to clean up. A healthy dose of fear could work miracles, the Woodsman wondered how much it would take to get them both to help with the cleaning. Late that night while both boys slept in a tangled knot on Red’s too small bed, dim glowing lights watched over them both and drew two dark bands around Woof’s left arm to mark him to all fey kind as a friend.


	4. Chapter 4

When Red was five, his dad taught him how to whittle, but not really how to whittle, the  _baby_  version of whittling. The Woodsman would sit his son in his lap, hold his hands in his own, and guide Red with his crafting knife as they chipped away piece after piece of wood. It took Red all of five minutes to start squirming, and barely five more before he let out a plaintive, “Daaad.”

The Woodsman relented, then about a year later, tried again. His son would have to learn his craft eventually, after all. It was how they made their money. Except Red nicked himself in the thumb, screamed bloody murder until his cheeks went blue, and swore up and down that he’d lost all his fingers. All of them. When whittling went away, someone was frustrated and someone was gleeful. No points for guessing who was who. Red had long come to the conclusion that whittling sucked butts and wanted nothing to do with it, at all, for eternity. Until at nine years old, his best friend ruined it for him.

“Hey, Woof, let’s goooo! I’m the dragon this time!”

“Can’t yet! Wait Mr. Stilinski’s showing me this thing!”

“Don’t call him that. Call him Dad.”

It wasn’t like Red wanted his Dad to dislike the wolf. It was  _great_  that they were getting along! That meant Woof didn’t have to go away, no matter what anyone said! Whittling was just so stupid, and boring, and maybe Red scowled his face off as he watched the pair of them spend almost an hour (almost a whole hour!) sitting on the porch, heads together, stupid knives not cutting anyone’s fingers off. Red totally almost lost all of his fingers that one time, really. He might have laughed a little too loud when Woof accidentally sliced the head off his figurine, but the pup growled and shoved him to the ground, and Stilinski ended up with a child under each arm, sighing to the Heavens but quietly pleased that he’d managed to separate them before they started biting. So everyone was happy, Red mostly, but everyone too! Whittling was still stupid, and dumb, and boring, and it was in Woof’s best interest that he forget about it forever.

Woof just didn’t know what was good for him. Red found him the next day, squinty-eyed in concentration, tongue caught between his teeth and poking out of his mouth as he chipped away at stupid wood that only looked like more wood, and URGH! Red stomped all the way to his friend’s side and knocked everything out of his hands. “Would you quit it?!” He snapped. “It’s stupid and you suck! You’re terrible! Let’s just go!”

Red expected was Woof to fight back probably, because he was such a stubborn butt. What Red hoped was Woof would ditch the silly hobby and go play with him. So when his friend’s face scrunched up like he’d bit a lemon, Red felt the world shift under him.

“It’s not stupid!” Woof insisted and shoved Red with half the force he could have. Then he grabbed his things and ran inside, slamming their bedroom door behind him. Red might have been imagining it, but he thought the wolf sniffled. He puffed up his chest angrily. He’d show Woof! Playing dragon was so much cooler than whittling. Woof would be so jealous, he’d be begging Red to let him join in soon! Yet without his best friend by his side, playing anything was the same way it had been all week - not fun at all.

Red dragged his feet all the way home, but he waited until it was nearly supper time to do it. When you were having fun you didn’t care about supper time. Woof would know, and he’d be so envious when Red told him all about how he slayed the dragon (and was the dragon, too? Red would figure it out). However the only person he saw at the dinner table was his dad, and the Woodsman fixed him with a steady stare that made Red feel all of two inches tall.

“Bring this to Woof, will you?” He asked, setting aside a plate. “He said he’s not hungry tonight.”

Red bristled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s not my fault,” Red proclaimed loudly. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend he didn’t notice that neither of them believed him.

His bedroom was dark when he crept in, and for a second, Red couldn’t move, terrified that it was empty, and he’d messed up, really messed up a whole lot, and his best friend was gone forever. Then a shaggy head poked out of the nest of blankets in the center of their bed, and a pair of bright crimson eyes came into view.

“Are you okay?” Woof dared, chewing his lower lip nervously. “Your heart went all-”

“I’m fine!” Red snapped. The wolf growled, and ducked back under the covers. His best friend dredged up a sigh, one far too world-weary for his little body, but he dropped to sit right by the lump, nearly dropping Woof’s dinner when he set it down. The boys stayed like that for far too long, each doing their best to pretend that they were alone, and that the smell of roasted ham wasn’t making their bellies grumble. Woof’s arm shot out to pinch a piece of meat off the plate, but Red broke his silence first.

“Why don’t you want to play with me anymore? All you wanna do is stupid whittling.”

The froze Woof mid grab, his fingers covered in gravy, but his eyes were trying to match the size of the plate. “I don’t - Red…”

The little boy huffed, pursing his lips, but when that made his best friend crawl out from under his blanket nest, he was more relieved than he could put to words. Woof was ashamed, fidgeting with his hands, his cheeks flushed pink. He spoke so softly, Red almost thought he imagined it.

“I like whittling… It’s the first human thing anyone’s ever taught me. And I didn’t know your dad, you know, liked me.”

“Of course he likes you! You’re the best!” Red protested, utterly gobsmacked, always quick to defend his friend because Woof didn’t do it enough for himself. Reluctantly, he found the wolf’s hair, scratching behind his ears in the way that made him go happy and pliant, even when he wasn’t four-legged. It took a little longer this time, but Woof curled against his side, expression painfully hopeful.

“Really?”

“Duh! You’re super nice to him. And you’re really good at whittling. I can’t do it, and Dad tried to teach me.” Red wanted to be embarrassed, but when Woof’s expression lit up like that, he had a hard time feeling anything but pride. It was only then that he noticed a little wooden figure peaking out from under the blanket. It had a really big body, and a super tiny head, but there was a wavy thing around it, almost like a… Cloak. “Hey is that me?”

Woof nodded mutely. Red grabbed the statue and refused to give it back.

“HEY! It’s not good yet,” Woof argued, and his forehead creased right down the middle as he shielded mini-Red from view. Slowly, but surely, gaining the confidence to climb all over his best friend to retrieve his project. “I don’t wanna show you, not… Not until it’s good. Give it back!”

“ARE YOU KIDDING IT’S THE GREATEST THING EVER!” Red yelled, clutching his likeness to his chest, shielding it from Woof’s stupid face. “You should make a Woof! Woof and Red Adventures! And a dragon! ROAR!”

He must have said something right, because Woof’s face got even stupider, but the good sort of stupid, the sort that made Red incredibly smug.

“I can try? I wanna really make that one nice. It’s… I want it to be the best.” The wolf dared, sheepish to a fault, and Red waved his hands at his face, like he could get him to understand just how awesome he already was.

“It  _is_  the best,” Red scoffed. “It’s me! And  _you_  made me!”

Then Woof smiled so wide, his tail popped out just so it could shake, and he tackled his best friend to the bed. When the Woodsman collected them ten minutes later, he had already set three places at the table.

Red slipped the carving into his pocket to keep his treasure safe forever.


	5. Chapter 5

Scott picked at the scabs on his knees, studying the little wooden carving with a frown.  It was better than the last one, but it still looked too stiff. Woodman Stilinski usually carved practical things, tools and clocks and spoons, but when he whittled a statue, it almost seemed alive. The animals looked like they’d just taken a breath or were poised to run, the trees looked like they were reaching up to the sky. When Woof tried, his wolf statue looked more like a chubby dog walking on stilts. Its legs were too pointy and it was like he’d forgotten how knees work. With a sigh, he tossed it into the fire and started again. Four days of work all gone. The Woodsman told him to be patient, but patience was the lowest on the list of skills a thirteen year old boy possessed.

Everything just felt too much these days, like there was something inside of him scratching to get out. He was restless, awkward, betrayed by his own body. He couldn’t figure out why his limbs didn’t always seem to listen when he tried to move or why he had more elbows than he thought. Woof was always tripping over his own feet or knocking into something, there were always some tender bit or bruised muscle. Even his voice had started to crack, squeaking and breaking at the most embarrassing times. Most days, he thought he’d do better if he just stuck to his wolf shape, though tripping over his own feet didn’t seem to be limited to human shaped ones.

Whittling helped, the Woodsman said that practice would help him learn more control, both mental and physical. These days, with his ears popping out whenever he sneezed or the humiliating bulge in the back of his pants whenever his tail decided to make an appearance, control sounded like an impossible goal. He was only two cuts in when he sliced his thumb, dropping the knife with a hiss and sticking the wound in his mouth with an inhuman growl.

But the sound was lost to the battle cry of a sneaky sneak who attacked Woof using all the terrible things the wolf himself had taught. Red howled triumphantly, shoving his friend to the floor, nothing but his wicked grin visible beneath his bright red cowl. He was covered in dirt and sweat, and his everything ached, but the human was ridiculously pleased with himself. The Woodsman had learned long ago that sending both his boys out to gather wood would result in one doing all the work, and one laying on his back until he burnt to a crisp. Besides, there was something oddly satisfying about knowing that work would be done extra quickly if the boys were separated. It was all a matter of knowing what best motivated them.

Time had made Red more gangly and uncoordinated than ever before. His hair had been buzzed back to show off a scratchy and overly large skull, and about a million freckles shone out against a sea of pock marks. He still tried to blow a raspberry on his best friend’s face.

Most people wouldn’t have trusted Red with a hatchet, and for good reason. The tool was left haphazardly in the middle the room, where everyone, or more than likely Red, could trip over it. He roared at his best friend once more, raising both his arms high above his head and trying to smother the wolf to death with his smelly pits.

Anyone who said exercise and fresh air was good for you lied. It just made you vindictive.

“GET OFF!” The wolf shrieked, trying to defend himself from his evil attacker. He snarled and rolled, slamming his elbow against the floor and getting a mouthful of Red’s cloak, but couldn’t keep the laughter at bay. Red was a sneaky jerk, but Woof was proud of him. For an awkward human child, he picked up a few things about being a wolf. He was better at moving silently and could stalk his prey without being seen. He could even sneak up on a real wolf without being caught, learning how to follow trails and mask his scent. The human was still a long way off, but he’d taken to the lessons and Woof was smug that he was such a good teacher.

Woof finally gave up, pulling Red’s hood down over his eyes. “You’re crushing all my important bits to death.” He complained, shoving the human off with a grin. He carefully gathered up his wood and knife, setting them aside to make sure no one would get hurt. “Your Dad’s not home yet, but I finished up around here already. You seriously got all the wood back this soon? I think you’re going for the record.” Scott sat up and rubbed his elbow, feeling another bruise adding to his collection. At least he healed quickly, one small consolation to the restless animal side that prowled through his veins these days.

He rummaged through the pantry, tossing Red a roll and stuffing one in his own mouth. He did his best not to eat his adoptive family out of house and home, but he was so hungry all the time. “You wanna get out of here for a bit? Maybe we can go swimming before dinner.”

Red groaned, flopping backwards and whining like a wounded animal as he took a mournful bite of his snack. His bright cloak fanned out in all directions, and Red did his best impression of a beached, drying starfish on the floor, just like the crystallized ones they saw the merfolk bring when they came to town for trade.

“I am dying!” He wailed, extra loud, in case his father was home to hear him. “My arms are broken. My legs are broken. My  _butt_  is broken. Feed me, Woof. Woooof, I need foood! I’m wasting away!”

He patted his belly with heavy thumps, letting out as many pitiful sounds as he could muster, and powered by hunger, Red could do anything. He waited for Woof to take pity on him, or more likely, to mock him at a closer distance. It didn’t matter. Once Red could, he would grab his roommate by the knee and steal all of his tasty snacks. They lived in a cruel, unforgiving world, and only those best equipped to survive would.

Woof crept closer with a roll in his hand, suspicious but falling for it like always. He couldn’t help himself, he always had to at least make sure his best friend wasn’t actually dying, though he ended up having to pay the price. He shrieked, tumbling back to the floor with a laugh and shoving his bread roll into Red’s face.

“You’re not dying, you big loser! You just want my food.” He laughed, sitting up and tucking his legs under himself. 

“I’m DYING!” Red insisted, like there was someone else in the house who hadn’t heard him the first time around, but the moment his roommate was in pouncing distance, he lunged. Chomping greedily at wolf’s buns, just nipping the tips of Woof’s fingers, he rolled around on the floor until he could get his head on Woof’s lap, and looked straight up his best friend’s nose. The view left something to be desire, but as long as Woof didn’t sneeze, Red probably wouldn’t lose his appetite. (Woof sneezed. Red didn’t lose his appetite.) 

“Besides, Dad’s gotten all prissy about being on time with chores, you know, because of that curfew thing again. A couple of little old ladies drop dead, and suddenly everyone’s gotta be on their best behavior.” Dropped dead, torn apart, same thing. “S’not our fault some outsider’s goin’ around doing things. We all know what it is anyway.”

“We know what it is? I thought your Dad said they  _didn’t_  know what it was.” The wolf shivered a little bit at the thought of some kind of dangerous monster roaming through their woods. There were always dangers in the forest, but nothing that targeted people and tore them apart. Humans were dangerous prey, there were few things that would ever go after one unless it was starving. It was still the middle of summer and food was plentiful. The animals of the forest would have avoided the humans, so that just left some kind of monster prowling the trees.

“You don’t think that it’ll come after us if we just go swimming in the pond for a little while, do you? Maybe whatever it is can’t swim? We should be okay if we get home before your Dad does, we’ll be back in plenty of time before dinner.”

Red laughed around a mouthful of bread, casually grossing out all over the floor. “Dude, come on, you know the answer to this,” he scoffed, making a swipe at his friend’s face, and missing it by a mile. Then his hand kind of just wandered there, trying to bop Woof on the chin while missing everything entirely. “Can  _you_ swim?”

How could Woof not guess? During their last trip into town, everyone whispered the theory. Even Red, who they all studiously avoided due to his biting habits (and personality), heard the rumors.

“It’s gotta be a wolf, but you know, a regular one. Not like you.”

“What do you mean a regular one?” 

Woof felt like he’d been slapped, staring at his best friend in utter shock before the anger started to filter in. “I  _am_  a regular wolf! I’m just as much a wolf as any other wolves.” Was he losing himself living here among humans? He hadn’t even seen another wolf since that awful night with Peter and he could barely remember his mother’s face anymore, but she’d been gentle and warm. She’d loved him more than anything else, Scott was certain about that. He couldn’t put names to the rest of his village anymore, but he remembered smiles and gentle hands ruffling his hair before slipping him cookies. It was home, same as any human town, they weren’t monsters.

The boy rocked back to his feet, furious. “Just because some old ladies get killed, you immediately think it’s a  _wolf_? You have no proof it was a wolf, you just start jumping to conclusions because you all just like to blame us for everything. Why couldn’t it be a human? They’re more violent than wolves ever are!” He was yelling but he couldn’t help himself, ears and tail popping into view as he snarled at his best friend. “And if you forget, I’m not human, Red. You might think I look like you, but I’m not. I’m never going to be one of you!”

Red toppled over with a surprise squawk, his head smacking the ground hard before he could right himself. “What is your problem?!” He bellowed, startled by the wolf’s anger but not enough to get over his self-righteous indignation. “Why are you mad!?”

He tripped over his own feet in his haste to get standing, features splotchy with exertion, but Red was never one to back down from a challenge, even if it was in his best effort to ( _especially_ if it was in his best effort to).

“You’re already different from the rest of them! It’s not like you live in a cave somewhere or, or walk around naked all the time! Humans aren’t the ones goin’ around, killing whole villages! You should be glad you’re not like them. You should be glad we found you!”

The wolf snarled, eyes flaring a dangerous red. How could his best friend think that after all the years they spent together? He wasn’t an exception and he wasn’t the result of being “rescued” or “tamed” by humans. “I had a home, you know.” He hissed through clenched fangs. “I had a village too. We’re not just animals living in a hole in the ground somewhere. Maybe it wasn’t always like yours, but it was close enough. We looked out for each other and we took care of each other because that’s what wolves do. All we wanted was to be left alone, but humans like  _you_  had other ideas. You say humans aren’t the ones going around killing whole villages, but they killed mine, Red. They set everything on fire and they murdered anyone who tried to get out. They killed my mom!”

He never talked about his past, making vague references over the years. It hurt too much to remember the night of the hunt or how his mother had managed to save him at the cost of her own life. Humans were terrifying, but he’d learned that there were those out there who wouldn’t hurt him. It never occurred to him that the humans he trusted wouldn’t think the same about him.

Scott stripped out of his shirt, throwing it at Red’s face. “We never did anything to anybody, we never hurt anyone. They killed us because we existed and I’m just like them. Who’s the monster now, huh?” He stalked out of the cabin enraged, kicking off his pants and shifted before racing out into the trees. He wasn’t a human, it was time he stopped pretending.

“Woof.” Red bit out, staring at his roommate with wide eyes. He’d never figured out what happened to the wolf’s family. In the back of his mind, he’d sort of settled on the idea that they abandoned Woof to fend for himself because they were terrible. Faced with the truth, the boy was stop busy trying to pick his jaw up off the floor to actually do anything for his friend.

“Wait, Woof! Scott!”

Red chased after him but it was too late. The wolf had taken off into the woods, and Red’s bony legs couldn’t keep up. He was still clutching the fabric of his best friend’s shirt.  _They’d killed them for existing._

Whenever he thought about the expression on Woof’s face, even years later, it made his stomach drop. He’d never seen him so hurt before, and for the first time, there was no place for aggravation beside his guilt.

It was too long hours, trekking through the familiar roads of the woods around their house before Red considered the possibility of defeat. The sun was already mostly gone. If Woof really wanted to run then there was no way he could catch up, but the idea made his heart race and heat pool in the back of his eyes. He grabbed at the tiny mirror hanging from his neck, for the umpteenth time in five minutes, staring balefully up at it.

“Woof?” He tried, but only his reflection answered. 

The wolf ran through the forest until his sides heaved and his tongue lolled, panting for air. Stupid stupid stupid! Of all the people in the world, he thought his best friend would understand. He was a wolf in the skin of a man, an animal. He wasn’t anything like them.

It was true, wasn’t it? No matter how much he looked like them, he’d never quite fit in. He was a lie every time he mimicked their customs or learned how to pass through their towns without being caught. He was a wolf and yet…maybe he was turning into too much of a human. Scott couldn’t remember what it was like to be a real wolf anymore. All the memories were blurred and faded with age, more of a feeling than any kind of image. He knew what it was like to curl into the soft fur of his mother’s side or the way shapes and forms didn’t matter, changing from one to another when the mood struck. He remembered being happy and safe until the day they weren’t anymore, but the details were lost. He’d never even seen another wolf since that night with Peter and that wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met, for all he missed the feeling of pack.

Maybe he was too human to be a real wolf anymore, Stiles was right. But he’d never be human enough for them either. If the rest of the town ever found out what he was, he’d be dead. Woof was stuck between, never really belonging to either side. What kind of creature did that make him?

He picked his way through the trees to the edge of the ravine overlooking their little forest valley and sat back on his haunches to watch the sun go down. There had to be someone like him out there, he couldn’t be completely alone. The young wolf tipped his head back and howled at the sky, calling out for a pack that was dead and dust.  _I’m here. I’m here! Is anyone out there?_

The forest was quiet, almost in apology, because all it could offer Woof was the rustling of leaves. Being the last one was always loneliest, and the night slowly grew that much colder. Until a frail, brittle sound echoed through the trees, straining to be heard against the wind. Its owner soon followed, huffing and puffing with effort, but determined to keep running.

Red took a long, pointed look at his best friend, and launched himself at full speed. When he hugged him, it was almost painfully gentle. Burying his face in Woof’s side and snuggling in, features twisted so unhappily, he pleaded, “I’m so sorry, Woof.”

And when dark fur puffed out beneath his fingers, Red just tugged him closer, aggressively draping himself all over the pup almost like he was trying to strangle the life out of him, and couldn’t figure out the fastest way to do it. Red wasn’t good at apologies. More often than not, Woof had to make them for him; it was why the grownups liked Woof more, even if Red knew he was just as dorky underneath it all. But when he meant it, he apologized with his whole heart, and you know, it was pretty cool to know that wolves could be nice, too.

He reached up to scratch Woof’s head, and went cross-eyed when he rested their foreheads together. Red was tuckered out, sweaty and gross. He couldn’t think about anything else other than making sure his best friend was okay (making sure his best friend would  _stay_ ). The howl that had torn through the night rocked him to his core. He’d never heard anything sound so sad before. Red hated that it was Woof who had to feel that way.

A wolf howled to signal the pack and find their way home. Woof had called for someone to find him and someone did, just not who he was expecting. The surprise only lasted a minute, why wouldn’t it be Red? He was a wolf, but his family was human and they came when he called just like any pack would. He might be the only wolf here and maybe he wasn’t a good wolf  _or_  a good human, but at least he wasn’t alone.

Woof huffed against his friend’s neck and licked the salt from Red’s cheek. The human hadn’t meant to be so hurtful, he just hadn’t known any better. They were afraid of wolves because they didn’t know, sharing stories about monsters and vicious animals without anyone ever telling them they were wrong. He remembered his mom telling him the same thing about humans, everyone was just so afraid that they couldn’t see the truth about each other.

Black fur disappeared as human arms snaked around Red and held him close. Humans might be wrong, but they could learn and change. They sat in silence for a long time, leaning together like they needed each other to keep the world in balance until the sun dipped below the trees and the sky filled with soft purple. The first stars glittered as light faded away and Woof rested his cheek on his best friend’s shoulder. “I miss them.” He finally said, voice quiet. “I’m scared I’m going to forget how to be one of them. I don’t know what that makes me.”

Woof’s voice startled him, and Red jerked, nearly knocking his friend’s chin off his face. He hurried to snake an arm around his middle, yanking him closer in another apology and pressed their cheeks together until everything was squishy and warm. Woof’s entire family had been taken from him. As he’d ran through the woods, Red couldn’t stop thinking about that. It used to take real effort to keep himself from asking Woof if he liked his new home better than the old.

Now, this just wasn’t fair. Woof’s mom had been taken from him, by cruel people who were terrifying and stupid, and Red couldn’t think anything ill of the woman who his best friend cried for. Moms were special. Moms were important. Anyone who took a Mom away didn’t deserve forgiveness.

He might not have understood why Woof wanted to be a wolf, but if humans had taken away Red’s mom, he wouldn’t have wanted to be human either.

“It just means you’re good at being both,” he insisted after a beat, face screwed up in concentration, but he slung an arm around tanned shoulders, and wouldn’t let go until Woof was on top of him. “Now you know how to be a wolf  _and_  a human, and that makes you awesome.”

Then softer still, like a secret he didn’t know he could say, Red whispered, “I wish you still had them… I bet if they were here, they’d help find that monster, like all the Queen’s knights. Wolves are good at tracking things, right? I bet they could find monsters faster than anyone.”

The little wolf laughed, the darkness hiding the way his cheeks burned a deep red. He never thought much about not wearing clothes, it was just as natural as being in his wolf shape. He’d never been ashamed or embarrassed, rarely even noticing if he’d forgotten one of the pieces the Woodsman insisted he wear. This though, pressed against his best friend in the dark was confusing, setting his heart racing in ways the thirteen year old didn’t understand.

“I don’t know if I’m good at being either.” He said, ducking his head in awkward pride. He might not think it about himself, but if Red said something, it must be true. Even if his best friend lied almost every time he opened his mouth, Woof knew he could trust him implicitly. Red thought he could be both, maybe he really could be. It didn’t make him any less of a wolf to know how to blend in with humans and maybe he could show humans what it really meant to be a wolf. The boy grunted his reply, nuzzling his face into Red’s skin and smiled.

“Are you kidding?! You’re AMAZING!” Red insisted. He always had faith in his best friend. Woof could do everything and anything he set his mind to. He taught Red how to do all sorts of cool things, taught him so much more about the forest that Red never knew, and joined him in all sorts of amazing adventures. He could trust Woof to watch his back against a fleet of angry witches, and on the nights the Woodsman was too tired to eat dinner with them, Woof was always there for him. Now, with their mirrors, that meant he could be even when they weren’t right next to each other.

“They could, they could probably have found it right away before so many people were hurt. Sometimes I can smell too much stuff, they were good at it.” Inspiration struck hard, almost knocking them both out of the tree as Woof smacked his friend’s chest with his fist. Red knew all the best stories, ones about strawberry blonde princesses he was in love with and a heroic boy and brave wolf saving the day. They weren’t just fairytales, they were supposed to be their stories. Their destiny they were waiting for. But what if they didn’t have to wait. “I could track it? What if we found it first and stopped it before it hurt anyone else?”

Red was stunned.

 “Woof, that’s genius!” He said shaking the pup by the shoulders, a wicked smile splitting his face in two. “We’ll find it, and we’ll track it down, and we’ll be heroes! Just like - just like Princess Rapunzel would want us to be!  _Ohmygod_ , and we wouldn’t have to leave or anything because we’ll fight monsters right here! Dad’ll love it!”

The Woodsman would not, but Red found that hard to understand. He laughed, snuggling into his best friend’s side, pressing a smile against the curve of his smooth cheek. “Come on, Woof! We’ll do it at first light. This is so cool!”

“Really?” Woof dared, and he preened at his friend’s enthusiastic cheer. They were going to do this. They were really going to do this. He could prove that he had a shot at being both a wolf and a human.

With a hoot, Red yanked his friend to his feet, running them all the way back home, while the wind stole their laughter. That as something else. Red never laughed as much without Woof. They’d be friends forever.

The Woodsman greeted them with a sigh, dinner already mostly set out as they crashed in through the back door.

“Boys.” He stared pointedly. “Woof, we’ve had this talk before. Where did you leave your clothes?”

Red took one look between his dad and his best friend. With a triumphant roar, he ripped off his shirt and shoved down his pants. Grabbing the wolf by the hand, he yanked him back out the door, bright red cape billowing behind him. “He’ll never take us alive!”

Woof looked mournfully at the dinner table before he was pulled outside, stumbling over his feet and laughing so hard his sides hurt. His fears and hesitations were gone, replaced with dreams of excitement and adventure. They’d wanted to be heroes since they were little and now it was finally their chance. They could save people, fight monsters and people would finally know that wolves could be heroes too. If they could only avoid the Woodsman and his evil pants rules.

They raced through the yard, wriggling out of the Woodsman’s grip until Stilinski managed to snag Red by the edge of his hood and sent both boys crashing to the grass in a giggling heap. He thought he’d adopted another son, but he was raising a pair of wild animals. He was going to have to teach them both how to survive in society one of these days. Woof was one thing, but when Red tried to follow suit, he ended up sunburned from head to toe and usually covered in ant bites or thistle scratches. The Woodsman corralled his boys, shooing them back into the cabin and standing by his rule of “no clothes, no supper.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sleep was hard in coming, Woof was too excited about the morning to rest. They were going to need some kind of weapon and he’d have to use all his skills to track down the monster. They’d somehow need to make sure that Red’s father didn’t know, he was too protective and would never let them fight evil until they’d proven themselves before. They could get hurt along the way, but Woof never really believed failure was even a possibility. He left his bed in the middle of the night, jumping hard on his best friend. 

Red squawked and fussed as his bed was overrun by invaders, pinwheeling dramatically until they were both smacked in the face at least once. Two growing human-shaped boys in a single bed wasn’t as easy to work around as it had been a few years ago, but they were determined. Red was also too tired from all his adventure packing to kick Woof out, and boy had he adventure packed.

Hidden under his bed was a knapsack bulging with all the necessary supplies for hunting monsters. Red’s slingshot for one (never mind he was terrible at using it), a piece of rope, a few pieces of copper he hid in a sock, and more than enough space to stuff all the food they needed for their journey. He was missing the most important piece though. That would have to wait.

“What time iss-shhh!” Red slurred, eyes glued shut with sleep, but he shoved his hand over his best friend’s mouth and rolled him into the mattress. The boy demanded stillness, trying to strain his ears to catch the sound of the Woodsman moving through the house. Normally his dad was long gone before they dragged themselves out of bed, but today, they had to make sure he really was gone before they tried anything. After all, the last item they needed for their adventure was the Woodman’s spare axe.

Woof closed his eyes, black furred ears popping through his hair and twitching at every soft muffled sound of the Woodsman beyond their closed door. Both boys held their breath as Woodsman Stilinski finally left the cabin, heading out in the woods for his day of work. As soon as he was gone, Red and Woof scrambled out of bed but tangled in the sheets and ended up tumbling in a heap on the floor. The wolf whined in pain, shifting into his animal form to wiggle himself free of his flailing friend and giving Red’s face a drooling lick before regaining his human shape.

The burst of excitement soon had them wide awake and they dragged the knapsack out from under the bed, stuffing it with extra food in between stuffing their faces with breakfast. A real adventurer was never hungry along the way, the stories never said anything about the brave warriors or handsome princes taking a lunch break when they were tracking the dangerous beast. Woof didn’t want to handle the Woodsman’s ax, if he needed to fight he could use his own claws and fangs like a proper wolf.

Giggling with pockets full of warm rolls and blocks of cheese that the Woodsman had generously left out for them, Woof led them out the door and into the soft orange morning light that filtered in through the trees. The closest house with the murdered grandmother was miles away and would take an hour to get to, but the journey passed by like no time at all. They were on a quest and Woof felt as brave as any knight in shining armor. “I think that’s it up ahead. I’ll need to get inside to pick up any scent.”

Red didn’t think he’d ever walked so quickly in his entire life. He wouldn’t stop showing off his Dad’s axe, certain that it was going to help turn the tide of any battle in their favor. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the Woodsman’s workshop, where the tool was normally held, without his Dad around. That must have meant there was extra power in the weapon that they couldn’t imagine, but it was definitely going to protect them from evil, no questions asked.

Red swung the heavy blade in a wide arch, making mouth noises the whole time. “Don’t worry, Woof. I got us covered.  _I_  know how to get us in.”

The unfortunate grandma’s cottage stood alone in a clearing by a small stream, weeds already creeping across her garden and dust settling over her windowsills. The boys pressed their faces against the glass, to find that most of the furniture had already been taken away. Everything left behind looked almost lonely. 

Breaking and entering wasn’t a bad thing if it was done in the name of saving defenseless old grandmas. Red was almost too disappointed when he realized that they wouldn’t have to do any breaking. The front door wasn’t locked. Red didn’t even need to look behind him to find Woof’s hand before he pulled them both into the house.

Woof shivered as they stepped into the little cabin. He couldn’t do more than whisper, there was something about the place that made speaking seem wrong. An unnatural hush, the last lingering traces of violence. It made his skin itch and his stomach sink, being here felt wrong. The monster had never seemed frightening before, but faced with a small empty house with dust slowly gathering on the abandoned furniture, it all suddenly felt so real. A person had lived here and now she was gone, they had to stop this thing before anyone else was hurt.

He squeezed Red’s hand before letting go, shucking his shirt up over his head and stuffing it into the human’s pack before the pants followed suit. He was always better at picking up a scent when he was shifted and they’d need every advantage they could get. The scents were old and crisscrossed with multiple other humans who’d come to see the scene and help move the woman’s belongings away. Some were familiar, family members from town. Woof tried to pick them apart, working the lines of scent like they were tangled threads. There was  _something_  underneath, different from the humans but too faint to place. That had to be the monster!

The pup barked excitedly, bounding around his friend to show he’d found something. He snuffed along the floor, tail wagging wildly and knocking into Red’s legs.  _I think I’ve got it, follow me!_  Woof bounded away, too focused on keeping the faded scent trail to see if the human was able to keep up.

This time, Red remembered to stuff Woof’s clothes into his pack. The Woodsman had yelled at them enough times already. He followed as close to the pup as he could manage, guarding Woof’s back with a threateningly poised slingshot. 

“Wait, Woof wait!”

They ran until their feet ached, just as excited as they were determined. They were going to be heroes, and the whole town was going to love them! Maybe even the whole kingdom! By the time they stopped, the sun was high in the sky, and everything was sticky. Red’s determination to stay quiet and prepared for battle had slowly waned, with his slingshot tucked back into his knapsack. He was down to his last bun, still soft, but cold. He shoved half in his mouth, chomped it off, and tried to stick the rest in Woof’s ear.

“Are we there yet?” He tried. “Woof, it’s your turn to carry the axe. It’s heavy.”

The wolf barked happily, snapping up the offered bun. They were going to have to catch up with this monster soon, without provisions, two hungry boys couldn’t get too far. He was sure they’d brought enough with them in the beginning, but tracking really worked up an appetite. Okay, so most things worked up an appetite when you were 13 years old. Woof licked the last of the crumbs from Red’s face, making sure do put all the drool he could into it before grabbing the axe with his mouth.

Woof was yanked down and faceplanted into the dirt, the axe too big for him to carry. He whined, struggling to pick it up before sitting back on his haunches with a sigh and shifting back to human. “Uuugh, I think I broke a tooth.” The boy put a hand to the side of his sore face with a scowl. “I didn’t realize it was so heavy. I don’t think I can carry it and still track the scent.” Scott breathed in, the scents of the forest were more muted like this but he could still smell the fresh pine and the faint musky animal trails that crossed through the mossy floor.

“I think we’re getting close?” He sniffed in and doubled over to sneeze. “I think I got a bug up my nose, gross! Dude, none of your stories ever talk about that when people go on heroic quests.” The young wolf flailed, rubbing his face on his best friend’s cloak. “Red, when we catch this thing, you think you’re actually going to be able to use the axe? It’s not as good as claws, it’s too big for you too.”

Red burst out laughing, completely forgetting to wipe the drool off his face. Then Woof insulted his honor. Red didn’t have a whole lot of it, but he was fiercely defensive of what little he had. “Dude!” He threatened, poking all of the wolf’s sensitive, ticklish bits. Best friends knew how to attack best friends’ weaknesses. Then Red shoved at the wolf’s mouth. If Woof lost a tooth, Red wanted it for the tooth fairy. It was fair game as long as it wasn’t under anyone’s pillow. “Of course, I can use it! That’s why I’m the hero, and you’re the wolf hero!”

Obviously Red couldn’t be the wolf hero, and every story had to have a wolf hero. They’d had extensive discussions about that very important topic.

He yanked the axe off of the floor with a newfound strength… and still nearly knocked himself over. Huffing waspishly, their granny eating monster slaying momentarily forgotten, he stomped towards the closest tree, then made the wise decision of changing direction and stomping towards a considerably smaller one. “I bet I could chop this down like dad! In ten swings or less!”

All in all, Red was fighting for the good of humanity. He had to prove he could save anyone before actually saving anyone. That was one of the first rules of heroing (and if it wasn’t, it definitely should be).  How dare Woof challenge him! Red hadn’t lugged the Woodsman’s axe all the way out here for the fun of it, because it really hadn’t been fun.

Woof always enjoyed being supportive. Whatever Red believed they could do, no matter how impossible, he was always there to cheer them both on. More often than not, they didn’t make it and someone almost inevitably got hurt, but he never gave up hope. This just seemed like the worst sort of trouble and he couldn’t help but eagerly goad his best friend on.

He snagged his clothes from the knapsack, struggling into his pants and flopping on the ground to watch. “Ten swings or less? Dude, I’m not even sure that your Dad could do it that quickly and he’s got big arms. You have…” The wolf smiled apologetically. “…arms. Just sort of regular arms. Maybe like, a little bony in the arms? Not that it’s a bad thing! I’m sure you’re plenty strong for monster hunting, but your Dad’s been chopping down trees for years. You’re gonna hurt yourself if you do it.”

_Crap_. The young wolf winced, realizing his mistake too late. Trying to convince Red not to do something was almost impossible, but telling him he’d get hurt doing something was a guarantee he’d try it. His best friend couldn’t stand to be wrong, no matter how stupid the challenge was. Woof tried to backpedal, waving his arms and hoping to distract Red away from the tree. Woof would have had better luck trying to convince a bird not to fly. “Maybe we should get back to tracking? The trail’s still old, but it’s easier to pick up out here and I’m hungry. You ate all our snacks while I was doing the hard sniffing work!”

Red gasped, clutching at his chest and bristling like a wet cat. He flexed both his arms, and surpassed all expectations, by bristling extra hard. “ _I_ carried it all the way here, and I was just giving you the chance to feel cool!” Red snapped, jabbing the wolf in the center of his chest, squinting so hard at Woof his eyes were reduced to slits. “I’ll show you who has arms! I have the best arms!”

He swung the axe in a dangerous arch, nearly taking Woof’s nose off before stomping up to the tree to show it who was boss. Red spat on his palms and rubbed them together, because he’d seen someone do that once before gripping the handle of one of his dad’s prized cyclops-forged axes. He roared, swinging his entire body, eyes screwed shut, and when he smacked it into the tree, his everything jolted to a stop. Red’s arms were trembling when he pulled away, kind of insanely pleased that he didn’t get the axe stuck.

“See? No sweat!”

That didn’t last long. There was a lot of sweat, a whole lot of sweat. Seven swings in, he was breathing hard, pits soaked, his entire face almost as bright as his cloak. Except the tree was actually worse off than he was. It teetered dangerously, its base chipped away by haphazard, desperate smacks that Red couldn’t take as much credit for as he would have liked. Cyclops were really, really good at making awesome tools. The Woodsman probably would have been able to finish by now. The bark of the tree was surprisingly weak.

Woof rubbed his nose and watched intently. Poor Red, he was way too small to swing the axe around like he had control of it. The Woodsman was a big man and if Red had the same sort of shape in his future, he was years away from filling into his frame. He was skinny and too long, but his face was round and blotchy red from the effort of proving his best friend wrong. If he was going to take over his father’s career, he needed to spend more time out in the woods. He could barely help cut the logs for their winter store every year, though Woof didn’t think he was much better. An armed human was a dangerous thing, but the wolf still thought it was silly that they didn’t have their own natural defenses. If humans didn’t travel around in packs, how would they have ever survived?

The tree rustled with each swing, humming like it was alive.  _Alive?_  Wait a second. “Uh…Red?” He edged closer, staying out of the way of the flailing axe. “Red? I think you should maybe-”

His warning came too late. The trunk of the tree cracked and the angry drone was deafening. Bees poured from the rotted tree in a black cloud, swirling around their broken home before targeting the two boys who’d disturbed them. Woof shrieked at the top of his lungs, swatting wildly as they were attacked. “Run!”

Red had seen many things in the decade of life, but nothing had ever terrified him as much as the black cloud of swarming evil that rose from the depths of the old tree, like a vengeful spirit. He shrieked so loud, he thought the forest shook with it, throwing both arms in the air and hightailing it out of there, his dad’s spare axe completely forgotten. They thought things couldn’t get any worse. They were wrong.

The tree started to sway, bark snapping under its own weight, weakened, and rickety, and when it finally broke, falling forward, all they could do was  _hope._  Red threw himself into the bush, hands over his face, but a pained yip drew his eyes to his best friend.

“WOOF!” He screamed, the pup all but buried under a mess of branches and leaves, but with the evil, stinging cloud over their heads, Red could only run. He hiccuped and burst into tears, but he ran until his legs wobbled, and all the air was knocked out of his lungs. They were so far from their home, but Red didn’t know what else to try. 

“Red, help! RED!” The wolf yelled after his friend, struggling to get himself free. He was pinned, tangled in heavy branches as the bees swarmed angrily around him. He shifted, ducking down as far as he could in the leaves and not caring that he ruined his clothes as they pulled and ripped as his body changed. Fur could help, he thought as he buried his face down against the tree. Anything to protect himself from the stingers. He yipped in pain as the bees managed to find all his exposed areas, his nose swollen and his feet covered in rapidly swelling lumps. The wolf thrashed as he tried to pull himself free, but the downed tree held him pinned.  _Red, PLEASE!! Don’t leave me here!_

Woof’s pained howl echoed through the forest. His best friend was long gone.

The woods turned familiar and welcoming, territory that he and his family called their own. He’d left Woof behind. He was never supposed to leave Woof behind! His face and arms were a puffy, sunburned mess, and his attention swam in and out of focus. He had to find his Dad.

Red stopped at home only long enough to dunk his head in a bucket of cold water. If the Woodsman didn’t choose that moment to come home, there was no way of knowing how long Woof would have been on his own, but Stilinski took the donkey and cart. He rode like Hell.

It felt like an eternity and the little wolf’s entire body was on fire. His skin felt tight and swollen, sharp aches from the stings lancing through his muscles. The venom made him sick, his vision swam and each breath wheezed. The droning drowned out every other sound except his screaming. He didn’t even hear the galloping donkey or the creak of the cart until the crushing weight was finally lifted from his legs.

The woodsman cradled the limp wolf in his arms, swatting at the bees and ignoring their stinging attack as he carried his boy to the cart. He lay Woof gently in the back and caught the panicked donkey moments before the animal bolted to escape the swarming insects. “Let’s go!” He called, cracking his reins and letting the donkey race out of the clearing and towards home. “Hang on, Woof.” The wolf only whimpered pitifully.

“Red!” He bellowed, the cart skidding to a stop. “Get a tub of mud, now!”

Red had a tendency to walk into things. It wasn’t something that had been fixed with age. Red just had a really, really bad habit of walking into things. Twice during his younger years, he’d ran straight into trees with bee hives in them (he’d ran straight into regular trees more times than anyone cared to count). They’d done this before. It had never seemed so important before.

He dragged bucket after bucket of mud to the metal pan out back, fretting and wheezing the whole time, tripping over himself to give Stilinski the room he needed to take care of his best friend. Woof whined, almost too softly to hear, as he was submerged in the cool mixture. Red refused to leave his side, scratching the soft fur at the base of his neck until it slowly receded, and leaving a tired little boy with too many bruises. Red cupped his cheek, resting his forehead against his own and carefully stroked his thumb along the line of Woof’s face.

“You with me, Woof? You still… You still okay?”

Without waiting for a reply, Red threw himself into the tub, clothes and all, clunky shoes kicking against his best friend’s legs before he glued himself to Woof’s side.

Later the Woodsman would carry his injured son to bed, feed him dinner, and let the pup fall asleep tucked against his side, still wrapped in bandages and soft blankets. Red would get an earful, after a very heated discussion about taking what wasn’t his and listening to rules.

For now, they had each other.

Woof spent days curled in bed in too much pain to drag himself anywhere. His whole body burned hotly and he drifted between agonizing consciousness and blissful nothingness as the bee’s venom wrecked havoc with his body. Every inch of him felt swollen and stuff, misshapen lumps visible through the coarse black fur. Red stayed by his side, a worried shadow, who helped his father remove every stinger and packed the wounds with cool mud to ease the raging fever. He dripped water into the wolf’s panting mouth, trying desperately to bring down his temperature until the swelling finally started to recede.

The pup whimpered softly, hiding his nose under his tail. He’d never spent so long in his wolf shape around the Stilinskis. He trusted them like no one else and he tried to shape himself just like them. Being a human was hard, but he’d modeled himself after them both and learned how to live in their world. If they remembered just how much of an animal he could be, maybe they wouldn’t want him anymore. The Woodsman surprised him, running a gentle hand down his muzzle and speaking to him like a person and not a dog. Eventually, Woof relaxed and let himself heal, ears twitching sleepily at the muffled sound of another one of Stilinski’s lectures about Red’s idiot behavior right outside the door. 

There were so many wounds across the wolf’s tiny frame, Red didn’t know what to do. The first time he’d tried to scratch behind his best friend’s ears, hoping to comfort him, his fingers bumped clumsily against so many swollen points, it made him gag. They were getting better, Red was pretty sure. Woof’s fever had finally broken, and he was sleeping through the night now, but that wasn’t enough to give the teenager enough bravery to do anything more than cower in the face of a disapproving dad.

Woof wasn’t supposed to get hurt. 

Red was supposed to let his roommate rest, but night after night, he found himself sneaking into the wolf’s bed. He wiggled into place behind his best friend, carefully running his fingers across the curve of Woof’s fuzzy back before trying to wrap himself around the other boy’s frame.

“Tomorrow I’ll read you that new story book, Woof,” he promised miserably, voice barely above a whisper he wasn’t sure he wanted his friend to hear, when the pup was sound asleep. Softer still, Red added, “I’m sorry.”

He was rewarded by their sheets shifting. The little wolf whined quietly, licking the back of Red’s hand. This wasn’t his fault, it had been an accident. They always got into trouble together and couldn’t keep from goading each other into bad ideas. No one had meant to get hurt, they’d have never risked each other if they’d known. They were supposed to be heroes, this was just a minor setback in their plans.

Woof tried to turn himself over, body aching as it protested every movement. His joints were too swollen to bend and his skin still felt hot to the touch as the poison worked slowly out of his system. This wasn’t fair, Red shouldn’t be taking all the blame for something they did together. He could smell the stress and regret in the air, guilt clinging to the other boy until Woof’s heart broke.

With a grunt of pain, fur slowly receded and his limbs grew longer as he finally shifted from wolf to boy. One form protected him from the bee stings that covered his body, but he couldn’t wrap his best friend in a hug without arms. Woof stroked an awkward hand down Red’s arm, hands twice the size as normal. “Mmm’okay” He croaked through puffy lips, trying to pull his face into a smile. “Don’t be sad, I’m okay. We didn’t know and you got help for me.”

Seeing Woof like that made everything so much worse. Red’s voice caught in his throat, and he whimpered sadly, quietly promising never to let go. Dark fur hid so much, and now Red was afraid to touch. The pup ran warm on most days, but it felt like he was seconds away from catching fire. Red fussed and fretted, wiggling them both around until Woof could rest on his chest with every pillow on their bed within flopping distance.  

“You’re so brave,” Red said, butting their heads together. His nose squished against Woof’s, and he found that spot behind the wolf’s ear that made him croon. Stories always talked about brave heroes overcoming terrible obstacles, but Red was slowly beginning to understand what that really meant. “You know what this means? This just means we gotta find our own weapons. They don’t have to be cyclops-made. We’ll go for the real deal.  _Giant_  made! They’ll make ‘em just for us, because we’re heroes.”

He spoke with such earnestness anyone else would assume Red was lying, but he believed every single one of their adventures would one day happen.

Woof laughed painfully, tired muscles relaxing as Red scratched behind his ear until his eyes closed with a happy huff. No matter how far-fetched the fairy tales, he would believe every word and every story just as passionately as Red. There would be adventure and glory, they’d save innocents and wield magical weapons made by real giants. Their stories weren’t just two little boys imagining a world bigger than either of them could understand, it was a promise. It was going to happen, Red said it was true and Woof could barely wait until it was real.

“Maybe magical metal tips for my claws. Or maybe something that shoots fireballs. I don’t need real weapons, I’m a wolf. You should get a sword though, every good king needs a sword.” Once Red was king and he was a real knight, then no one would be afraid of wolves anymore. They could even make it a law that no one could hurt any more of his people! And there wouldn’t be any more bee stings. Dragons and monsters they could handle, but bees were an unfair surprise.

“We’ll be more careful next time.” Woof murmured quietly, still so tired and lulled by the dreams of their future. “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder. We’re not gonna give up, so don’t blame yourself.”

“You were great, Woof,” Red insisted heatedly, so much determination shoved into one sentence it nearly burst. He pressed his face against the side of his best friend’s cheek, worrying unhappily at the uneven bumps across normally soft skin. “Bees fought dirty. We were ambushed!”

Red knew that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe he couldn’t own up to how much he contributed to all this, but he knew he wasn’t blameless. Otherwise, his chest wouldn’t hurt so much, and seeing his wolf like this wouldn’t make him so sad.

“I’ll get an awesome  _flaming sword,_  and you can have silver claws. Oh! They’ll call you the Silver Claw!” Red decided, while he rubbed gentle circles across the other boy’s back. He could feel the tension draining out of Woof’s bones, until the pup was as much of a floppy, contented mess as he could be. The more his friend relaxed, the more Red could, too, and when Woof’s eyes drooped like that, his swollen eyelids were less noticeable.

“Go to sleep, buddy,” Red urged, but he was too late. Woof snored nasally against his chest and didn’t stir, even as a cotton blanket was draped over both boys. Red floofed his hair with a tender hand. It didn’t matter that Woof was already asleep. Feeling brave, like they really had managed to save all the little old ladies in town, Red inched closer and dropped a kiss on Woof’s brow. He’d remember the way Woof scrunched up his cheeks and wiped his nose on Red’s shirt for almost forever.


	7. Chapter 7

“Boys, I want you to clean up after dinner.” Woodsman Stilinski said as he affectionately ruffled his son’s hair.

“Awww, Dad.” Red complained automatically, but Woof had already started to gather up the plates.

“Don’t make Woof do all the work.” He flicked the boy’s ear and smiled, watching his sons laugh and try to see who could clean the plates the fastest. They turned everything into a competition, but he’d never seen such a pair of troublemakers in his life. He never thought he’d have another child after losing Claudia, but the wolf pup had become an important part of his family. A creature that wasn’t human and had the nature of a vicious killer, but those words never described Scott. His initial trepidation had faded and over the years, he stopped thinking about the boy as anything other than his child. His positive influence on Red was just an added bonus.

The wolf didn’t notice the Woodsman’s look, too busy laughing as he splashed water on his best friend and then fled to the opposite side of their kitchen table to escape retaliation. Even chores were fun when they did them together, though they wasted so much time playing. Everything could be a game and for all Woof wanted to do his part to help, it was so easy to be led astray. All it took was one quirked eyebrow in challenge and they were off, wrestling and chasing one another through the house until the Woodsman would throw them both out into the forest to play until the sun sank beneath the horizon.

“Wait!” Woof said, catching a few left over sweet rolls from the basket before they were stored away in the breadbox. He stuffed them into his pocket with a grin.

Red laughed, rubbing his friend’s belly like he would when Woof was furry. “You can’t possibly be hungry. You ate like half a duck tonight! I couldn’t even keep up.”

“Well, then whose fault is that? I guess wolves just grow faster. I’m gonna be taller than you.”

The human gaped, holding his hand over his heart. “You big fat  _liar_. You’re going to be so much shorter than me, you take that back.”

“Nope!” Woof danced out of reach and stuck his tongue out. “I’m going to be a big bad wolf.”

“Not so big or so bad.” Red pounced, scratching his friend behind the ears until the pup melted. “You don’t have it in you. You’re still squirreling food away? You know we have enough.”

The other boy grunted, embarrassed. When he’d first been lured into the Stilinski cottage with a stick of salami, he’d taken to hording food under his bed. He’d spent too long on his own running from the hunters that had killed his mother and had been too small to hunt. Food was rare and he never knew when he’d be able to eat again. Over the years, he’d slowly let his guard down as he learned how to feel safe again. “No, it’s not like that. I’m taking it to the fairies.”

“The what?” Red’s eyes bugged out of his head before he laughed. “Fairies? Dude, there’s no fairies in these woods. We would have seen them by now, they don’t hang around people. If you leave those rolls outside, they’ll just be eaten by a raccoon or something.”

“There are too fairies! They like it when I bring them treats.”

“Of course there are.” Red gave the wolf one final scratch. If Woof wanted to hide food, then he wasn’t going to make fun. He knew how difficult his friend’s first few years had been. The two boys managed to get the dishes clean before too long and Red settled by the fire with one of his new storybooks from the last time they’d visited the village. His friend sat beside him, carefully practicing his whittling as Red read about magic and battles out loud.

Wolf didn’t mention the rolls again, keeping the sweets in his pocket and hidden carefully to protect them until they were both sent to bed. Everyone in the Stilinski house slept early, the Woodsman was up before dawn and expected the boys to start their chores soon after. Life was harder away from town and there was a lot of work involved, but Woof never minded putting in his share. It made it easy to wait until the house was still, Red snoring in his bed in the corner of their room and the Woodsman sleeping easily down the hall.

The young pup silently slid out of his bed, bare feet nimble on the wooden floor as he sneaked out of the cabin and closed the door behind him. Their little clearing was bright in the moonlight, surrounded by deep shadows from the trees that rustled in the light breeze. He breathed in deeply, always feeling the pull of wild blood when the moon was almost full and he was alone. He loved Red and his adopted father, but they would never understand the way his very bones could sing on a night like this or the urge to fling himself into the darkness and run. Hunt. Howl at being young and free and alive. He was in his element and his whole body beat with the pulse to shift, but he kept his control.

The little stump was right by the edge of the clearing where the shadows mixed with silver light and surrounded by a ring of tiny white flowers. A fairy ring, no one had noticed or disturbed it since it had blossomed. Carefully, Woof pulled out the slightly squished sweet rolls and set them on the stump, He made sure he didn’t step on a single flower and waited.

It was only a few minutes before the sound of glass bells chimed from the darkness, bright laughter almost too high for even his acute lupine hearing to catch. Glowing color bloomed like ethereal flowers, too large to be fireflies and flitting in streaks of light around the stump. Some of tiny creatures landed for their feast, iridescent wings casting pale rainbows around them like halos and Woof caught his breath in wonder. A few attached themselves to him, playing with the curls of his hair or perching on his arms for a higher view of their comrades. They recognized one of their own, an inhuman creature of magic and moonlight, and even with his long sleeves hiding his arms, it was as if they could sense the mark that hid beneath it. A shifter was just another sort of changeling, kindred blood however distant, and this one had saved them from being human pets. They’d watched over him ever since.

Woof giggled as wings tickled his skin. “You’re very welcome.” He murmured. “I shouldn’t stay too long. I’ll see if I can bring some cream tomorrow for you. His eyes crossed as one fairy boldly kissed the end of his nose. He wanted to join them and temptation tugged at his instincts to let go of his humanity for the night, but he turned wistfully away. They had an early morning and he couldn’t just go disappearing to follow the moon until it set. He waved goodbye and the fairies watched their wolf race back across the damp grass.


	8. Chapter 8

Woof wasn’t a jealous creature. There was very little in the world he wanted besides his family, some good food, and a comfortable place to sleep. He’d lost everything in his life once before, so  _things_  never seemed as important as they did to Red. Except for one thing. The wolf spun, watching the deep red of his borrowed cloak twirl around him and grinned as the ends fluttered to the floor. He was never allowed to have anything this nice, his own fault really. Clothes were a necessity he’d learned to live with, not something he actively enjoyed. The clothes he did wear were often patched and worn from unexpected shifts between his forms, too often torn as his human body twisted into something more feral.  No one would risk a cloak as nice as this when the chances were he’d end up ruining it. Besides, Red was so proud of it, and the legendary warrior Queen he’d named himself after, that Woof would never ask.

But it was pretty and Woof loved the way it fell around him, heavy and warm. He was nervous about wearing it, but with Red still grounded at home after their little bee escapade, his friend had let him borrow the cloak as a good luck talisman. If he couldn’t have Red by his side for the next few weeks, then this was the next best thing.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, looking out from under the hood at the other boy. “I’ll keep it safe, I won’t even get it dirty or anything, I promise. But it’s yours, Red. I don’t want to take it away. It’s only going to be a little longer, I’m sure. Your Dad’s gonna let you leave the house again.”

“Urgh!” Red complained emphatically, throwing his hands in the air, in utter despair. He was never going to be allowed out of the house! It started off reasonable enough. Even with Woof out of commission, chores still needed to be done, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to eat at night, so Red took on the burden without so much as a peep (for the first two days). Then the wolf recovered, and Red’s punishment became more about… Punishing him, instead of necessity. Finally clear headed, Woof was spoiled with the dubious treat of watching his best friend grunt and groan his way through their daily chores, and the Woodsman chastised him when he tried to help, to boot. Red was resigned to a lifetime of  _imprisonment,_ completely unaware that his dad intended to release him back into the wild before the new moon.

He wrinkled his nose, before adapting the solemn air of a dying martyr. “You have to take it Woof. It’s for your protection. No one’ll mess with you if you’re wearing Red Riding Hood’s cloak.”

Gzregorz Stilinski preferred to go by ‘Red’ for obvious reasons, but also because the great warrior queen who founded their kingdom was the most awesome woodsman ever. Even if he knew it wasn’t the real cloak, his mom had stitched a practically perfect replica. That was all that mattered. Besides, if he couldn’t go with Woof, something had to protect him.

Red _was_ a jealous creature, and he reached around the pup to swoosh his cloak for him, like he hadn’t done in months because he was convinced he was too “mature” for that. Now, all he wanted to do was swoosh (with the appropriate mouth noises).

“Flunderfult is way too far away, dude. You sure you gonna make it without eating all those pies?” Red teased, tugging on his hood until it fell over Woof’s eyes. They didn’t have many neighbors, but the ones they did have were sweet on them. So when Stilinski had heard ol’ widow Opie had come down with a bug, he decided to send his more polite son over with some crushed beanstalk, sweet buns and fresh jam. Red probably would have eaten half of it before he got out of the house.

Woof laughed, trying to strike a pose as he swooshed the cloak dramatically. Maybe there was some magic in it, Red certainly believed it made him invincible. There was some connection to that long gone Queen and nothing would be able to touch him as long as he wore it. Plus, it was just really pretty and Woof liked how soft it was against his skin. He caught the edge and rubbed it against his cheek, smelling clean soap and Red’s scent. For a moment, he really did believe it could protect him.

“I can make it! I won’t eat them, I don’t actually eat  _everything_.” The young wolf huffed before a sneaky grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not all the time, anyways. Your Dad said that Ms. Opie wasn’t feeling well, so she needs all of this way more than we do. Just think about how much she’ll appreciate someone looking in on her, she’s all alone out there and it’s probably really hard for her if she can’t even get out of bed.” He planned on staying to help her finish some chores around the house. Watching Red have to take care of everything while he was sick and healing from the beestings was almost as painful as the stingers themselves. He couldn’t imagine how one little old lady would manage all on her own, especially if she was ill.

The wolf’s stomach growled loudly and he ducked his face under the hood in embarrassment. “Okay, so I’m just a little hungry, but I promise I won’t eat any until I get back tonight.” Or unless some sad brown eyes would convince a friendly widow to share. “You’re going to be okay without me though, right? You can’t get into trouble, I don’t like doing all of this without you. We’re a team, we’re heroes together.”

“Urgh.” Red intoned solemnly, grabbing his best friend by the cheeks and squishing him until he squealed. “You’re such a nerd!”

The worst part was Red wasn’t even 100% sure he could tell if Woof was just playing, or if he really meant to help Ms. Opie. The tickle match that followed was one for the record books, both boys tossing and tumbling until they almost knocked over the table Woof’s basket of goodies perched on. It ended in breathless laughter and flushed cheeks, and Red petting his best friend’s face with triumphant fondness as Woof sat on his chest.

“You cheated!” That didn’t stop Red from reaching out and pinching the folds of the little wolf’s tummy. Woof squawked, and Red was too eager to drag him down to his level, pressing their cheeks together as they curled in on one another, taking cheap shots the whole time.

Then Red cuddled his best friend hard, brushing his hair under his hood, and such a strong rush of affection surged through him, he almost made Woof stay. Woof’s skin was no longer lumpy and bruised, and it had been so long since their last adventure. He just couldn’t say things like that without being extra lame.

“I never get into trouble.”

Woof scoffed at him. Red only pinched him a little.

“Come back soon, okay?” Red asked, just a tremor too soft. “It’s too boring when you’re gone.”

“I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” Woof swatted at his friend’s hands, secretly pleased at the attention. He squashed the feeling as soon as he recognized it, cursing teenage hormones and confusing uncomfortable emotions. He tugged the hood down and squared his shoulders. Going alone was a big deal, but a knight had to be brave even without their best friend at their side. It was just a short trip, he’d be back in a few hours anyway, hopefully before Red would get into too much trouble on his own.

“That’s because I’m the coolest and you’re jealous. _I'm_ the one with the fairy mark, remember?” He teased to show off the black bands around his arm before immediately hugging the other boy to make sure Red didn’t think his words were serious. “If you get all the chores done by the time I get back, then maybe your Dad will let you out to play for a little while.”

"Oh please." Red rolled his eyes for the thousandth time. "I keep telling you you're seeing things. There's nothing on your arm but hair." He plucked a tiny strand for emphasis to make his friend yelp. The wolf rubbed his arm ruefully, but finally pulled one of the sweet rolls out of his basket and shoved it into his best friend’s mouth. “Fine, whatever. You just can't see it. Take this and no telling!”

The day was warm and the woods were bright as sunlight filtered through the trees. Everything smelled fresh and growing, the perfect kind of day that promised hours of swimming in the lake or chasing each other through the bushes or working on their secret treehouse they’d been slowly building over the last several weeks. The little wolf had a difficult time keeping his thoughts on his task as he headed through the worn paths towards the widow’s cabin, distracted by the colored flashes of birds flitting through the branches and the new summer flowers that bloomed in the shadows. The delicious smells from his basket didn’t help and Woof’s stomach kept growling as he resisted the urge to snack.

The faster he finished, the faster he could get back! He couldn’t let himself stray, he’d promised the Woodsman he could do this alone. Cloak billowing out behind him in a red streak, Woof laughed and took off running.

Red watched his coat swish-swash away with unapologetic envy. Everything sucked when you were grounded. It was a proven fact. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the forest was alive with energy. Red watched with glum resignation in his magic mirror. Making faces in it that Woof didn’t notice had lost its charm on the first day he was punished. Anyway, there were chores to be done.

It was the sort of day the poet’s summer dreams were made for, and nothing could stop Woof. At least, nothing could, until he got to the stream that cut through the Outskirts. It separated the Stilinskis from their neighbors, and the bridge was out. Any other day, crossing it wouldn’t have been a problem, but today, the wolf had a bag full of goodies, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he had to leave Red’s cloak by the riverbank. A gentle voice cut through the morning air, but only a tired old panhandler waited by what was left of the bridge, swaddled in tattered cloth.

“Seems like it washed away in the night,” he said, tapping one of the remaining columns with his walking stick. When he turned towards the young boy, the sun caught on the edge of his hood, casting ominous shadows across his face. It became clear a moment later that he was merely unhappily scarred, the mark of old burns crisscrossed over his features. “Where are you going young man?”

Woof was apprehensive of strange humans, but the years had convinced him to lower his guard. His natural friendliness and helpful nature won out against lingering suspicion. It had been a long time since he’d been on his own and he’d been raised alongside Red as a human child. Even the local village hadn’t frightened him in years. A lone man, especially an injured one, was no threat at all and Woof smiled warmly at the stranger.

“I’m going to visit the Widow Opie. Her homestead is a ways across the stream and she’s been sort of under the weather lately. We thought sending along some food might help if she hasn’t been able to cook.” He leaned forward, examining the broken posts of the stream. “Wow! The whole thing snapped right off, there must have been a big flood to cause all this damage. Woodsman Stilinski might be able to fix it, I can make sure to tell him…but it won’t be until I get back.”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously, trying to judge how deep the stream was flowing and how fast the current moved. Even a small stream could be dangerous when it was rain swollen. If he lost his footing, he could be swept downstream and drown or worse, ruin Red’s cloak for him! “Is there another way across? Maybe if I tried to hike up stream for a mile or so, there might be a narrower point to try and make it.” The wolf said thoughtfully, trying to figure out how long a detour would cost him. Stilinski had wanted him to go straight to the widow’s home and back again, but it wasn’t his fault if he had to find another longer way to get there.

The vagabond nodded his agreement. “Sounds about right. S’not a big stream, but you don’t wanna risk getting dragged under.” He jerked his thumb upstream, adding, “I came from thataway, across the shiny stones. Nearly lost m’step once or twice, but I’m in one piece. Shouldn’t be a problem for a strapping boy like yourself.”

Woof all but wagged his hidden tail, satisfied when he said his goodbyes. He offered the old man a sweet roll in thanks, surreptitiously counting how much he had left, so poor Widow Opie wouldn’t feel left out. There was something to be said about the kindness of strangers, especially when the human had such a big smile. Besides, it was a warm day. A little walk wouldn’t hurt him. Woof planned on walking back extra fast, too. That way, maybe Red could enjoy it with him.

Just like the man said, the stream narrowed off into something more manageable. There were stones along the shore, but they were smaller than he’d expected, tricky even for someone with his inept grace. Woof took what looked like a sturdier log to get across, thinking about what his best friend would say if he fell in. Probably nothing nice, but that just meant Woof would have tried to drag Red in with him.

It wasn’t hard to find his way back on track, even if he had to stop for a snack, but that was okay, old people had to eat less because their stomachs were smaller, and they’d stop growing right? When he found the familiar path to their neighbor’s house, Woof was convinced he hadn’t wasted any time at all.

The wolf hummed to himself, brushing off the crumbs from Red’s cloak before skipping off down the path. It really was lucky! If he hadn’t met that man, he might have spent ages looking for a narrow place to cross and risked being late. It was early still and the afternoon light filtered through the trees in golden drabs that seemed to skip with him towards the widow’s cabin. This close to her home, the path was well worn from years of travel through the forest towards the village. Even those who lived in the woods headed in to market, though it looked like the widow hadn’t been able to leave her home in weeks.

The cabin was a small, neat affair painted bright white that stood out starkly against the deep green of the trees. Fussy rows of red and purple flowers lined the walk, everything in its place. It was a tiny oasis of civilization in a wild wood. Woof bounded up the path with the red cloak streaming behind him and knocked on the door. “Hello! It’s Scott, Woodsman Stilinski sent me with some food for you. Widow Opie! Hello?”

He pressed his ear against the wood and could hear a heartbeat inside, a weak voice calling out for him to come in. Slowly, he creaked open the door and peeked inside, eyes having to adjust to the dim light. A single candle was burning near the bed and the air smelled of illness. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but we thought you might like a home cooked meal.”

“That’s so sweet of you.” The frail voice called out. “Come closer, let me see you.”

The wolf bustled in proudly, carrying his basket of gifts like it contained precious stones. After his trek, he would’ve preferred more sweet buns over any diamond, after all. He worked with a pep in his step, pleasantly pleased with himself for having come so far. Woof thought he did a good job, and he thought the Woodsman and Red would think so, too. Widow Opie had such a quaint house, he didn’t think it would take him very long to tidy up.

He set his basket down on an empty table, looking around for a tray to deliver his goods on, just like Woodsman Stilinski did for him when he’d been sick. Breakfast in bed was a thousand times better than plain old breakfast, and Woof really liked breakfast.

“Woodsman Stilinski made some of his special berry jam, and we helped!” He said, proudly. Sure, he and Red also made a mess of too many berries, but not  _all_  of them.

“That’s enough, boy, come here.”

Widow Opie made him snap to attention, eyes wide and just a little shocked by how rough the poor woman’s voice was. Woof was doubly glad for the beanstalk paste the Woodsman had packed. Sure, it tasted awful, but she needed it. A frail hand closed around his wrist, but tugged with surprising strength.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, Scott. My how you’ve grown.”

“Mrs. Opie!” The young boy yelped in alarm, trying to twist away from the old woman’s grip. “You’re hurting me. Your nails are too long.”

The woman’s smile was sharp and cruel as she tightened her trip. “All the better to keep you close.”

The wolf swallowed a whimper, staring at the fanged smile. “M-Mrs. Opie? Why are your teeth so pointy?”

The figure shifted in the bed, leaning closer to Woof with more grace than an old woman could ever manage. The light fell across her face and Woof felt ice rush through his veins in terror as he recognized the man beneath the burn scars, the same man from the river. “ _Peter_?!” Memories of that night flooded back, the absolute helplessness as the older wolf had manipulated his mind with magic and promises of pack. He’d been pulled under and Red had almost died. It couldn’t be real, Peter was gone. It had been so many years, he only existed in nightmares where he couldn’t touch either one of them anymore.

“All the better to eat you with, boy.” The older wolf purred dangerously. “You wouldn’t want me to have to do that, would you? You’re going to be a good little pup so I don’t have to punish you.”

Woof yanked and twisted, trying to get himself away. “Where’s Mrs. Opie? What did you do to her? Why did you come back?”

“I came back for you, Scott. You think I’d leave you here with all these humans making you weak. They’re tainting you, pup. You need a pack and I’m here to give you one.” He leaned in close, breath rank with the scent of meat. “And the woman here served her purpose. The strong hunt the weak, there’s no loss. You’ll learn that in time.”

Woof’s expression twisted in horror, but Peter never had the chance to savor his victory. All at once the pup lunged, dragging a clawed hand down his captor’s face as he turned and ran before he could notice the blood he spilled. He tore through the little cottage, knocking over furniture as he sped past. Behind him the monster gave chase, heavy paws thumping against the wooden floor, and Woof took an unfortunate turn towards the kitchen. The smell of fresh blood was sharpest there, but still so subtle he almost missed it. A wolf knew the best way to fool one of their own, but once he noticed, it was impossible to shake.

If he kept running, he might have saved himself, but Woof opened the door to the pantry, and his heart broke. He fell to his knees, whimpering by poor Widow Opie’s side. She’d been thrown against the wall like so much garbage, fragile body bent unnaturally. The wolf was too afraid to move her, listening to her struggle for air, though her lips were already tinged blue.

“Widow Opie, Widow Opie,” he mourned softly, letting out a pained sob. This was all his fault. Peter never would have come for her if he hadn’t been around, but he had to run if he wanted a chance to save them both. He swiped angrily at the tears in his eyes, trying to shimmy open the back door before scrambling in beside her.

“Come out, come out wherever you are.” He growled. “It’s time to stop fighting who you are, boy.”

_I’m not this, I’m not like you!_  Woof’s thoughts beat against the inside of his skull in rhythm with his racing pulse. This wasn’t him. A wolf didn’t have to be a killer no matter what Peter said. The humans were the ones who always saw them as monsters, but the faded, tattered pieces of memory he kept close had taught Scott there was another way. The fact he’d been taken in and given a new family by those who should have hated him proved it. He wasn’t a child anymore, he wouldn’t give in to the alpha wolf’s lies. Scott would be his own man and only he had the power to decide what kind of wolf he’d be.

Woof carefully touched the widow’s arm and reached for…for something? Some innate instinct he couldn’t explain with words compelled him to open something inside of himself. Pain flooded through his body and the young wolf gasped in shock, but didn’t pull his hand away. He could almost see the wounds in her body, willing broken, bruised flesh to knit together as he took the pain for himself. Small little magics in a shapeshifter’s blood, proof they were closer to the fey than to humans. Woof almost sobbed in relief as he pulled away, the Widow’s sickly pallor improved and her breathing eased. The thing inside of him that made him different was one that could heal, not kill.

“Got you!” A clawed hand closed around the back of Scott’s neck, hauling him from his hiding place as the young wolf twisted and fought. He took a deep breath and howled at the top of his lungs, the sound shaking the timber of the little wooden cabin.

Closer than he should have been and in so much trouble if he ever got caught, the sound reached a young boy secretly trailing his best friend through the woods. 

When Red started his day, this wasn’t where he’d expected to be. Contrary to popular belief, his issue had never been motivation. He always began with every intention of finishing his work as soon as possible, but even the strongest motivation weakened without the proper reinforcement. All Red wanted to do was be prepared for his best friend coming home. They could have real fun, and maybe his Dad would let them get back to adventuring if Red proved that he could adventure  _properly._  Yet soon his thoughts would drift from chopping wood to battling angry bees bigger than his house, aided by dragons and mysterious harpies. The scenarios shifted as quickly as the wind, save for one important fact. His loyal Woof would always be by his side.

The mirror around his neck was lighter than a pebble, but weighed down with the worst sort of temptation. The more time passed, the more often he checked it, absolutely convinced that this was the day Woof was going to find a phoenix without him. Red didn’t actually want to be right. Most of all, he never wanted Woof to find a monster.

Red was soaking wet and covered in mud. Every step he took was squishy and uncomfortable, but it was all because someone had knocked down their crossing bridge. Everything went back to that bridge, and the creature that hid by it. Enchanted glass let him seen past the shimmering magic that disguised the beast. When he looked back on it, the boy would thank (and blame) fate or serendipity. He would never think of the little ball of light that hovered by his ear, tugging on the fine hairs inside it until he reached for his mirror.

Red had been running ever since, his Dad’s axe in his hand. This time it didn’t feel heavy at all, but Widow Opie’s house had never felt so far away. The echo of a familiar howl tore through the forest, and not so far away, the brave pup fought for all his worth, clawing at Peter until the creature snarled, slamming him against the wall so hard, Scott thought his bones cracked. He moaned pitifully, clawing at the hands that trapped him. It was more than the grip around his throat that choked him. The older wolf’s insidious influence crept through his mind, baiting him with ruthless cruelty.

“Give up boy,” he sneered, and Scott was certain he could hear the works bouncing in his skull. “ _You’re mine now_.”

Then Peter roared in pain as the cottage’s backdoor slammed open. In one graceful swoop, Red had lodged a cyclops-forged axe head into the devil’s back.

“Red!”

The older wolf released Scott from his clawed grip and the pup landed in a heap, coughing as he struggled to breathe. His throat was raw, but there wasn’t time to take stock of his wounds or even to wonder how his best friend had managed to find him. He leaped onto the other wolf, shifting into a beast as teeth and claws tore into his enemy.

Peter writhed, trying to reach the axe buried near his spine and keep himself from the pup’s frenzy. Even though Woof wasn’t fully grown or anywhere close to as powerful as an alpha wolf, he fought like a wild thing and Peter stumbled back. With a snarl of pain and a bright spray of blood, he wrenched the axes from his back and slammed the metal against the side of Red’s head to send the boy sprawling.

Woof latched on to the older man’s arm, biting down hard enough to feel bone crack. His mouth filled with blood and the boy tried not to gag as he was thrown off. He landed in a heap on the hard wooden floor, inches from his unmoving friend.

Scott wrinkled his nose at the scent of blood and hauled himself to his feet. His eyes burned bright with an inhuman light, and snarled around a mouth full of fangs. Even with his heart thrumming with fear, he put himself between Red and the older wolf. “I am  _not_  yours, I’m  _MINE._ ”

A desperate plan formed and the wolf grabbed for one of Widow Opie’s lanterns, racing out of the cabin and into the late afternoon sun. He hoped that Peter would follow his trail away from his heroic Red and the Widow, giving them enough time to escape. The borrowed red cape fluttered behind him as he ran, picking up well-known trails and leading the monster into his makeshift trap. Vicious snarls ricocheted in his ears as Peter gained on him, full of rage and hate, and the little wolf wondered if bravery was supposed to feel like fear.

Scott skidded to a stop beside a rotten, half-collapsed tree and snarled as the monster stalked closer, towering over him and casting a shadow so dark, it could put the night to shame in broad daylight. When Peter sneered, his fangs were as white as scoured bone.

“There’s nowhere to go now, little one. Surrender like a good boy, and maybe I’ll let your little friend live.”

The alluring, heady urge to give in crawled through Woof’s thoughts, singing like the most seductive siren through his mind. It was so hard to breath, with Peter’s spell tearing into his nose and mouth, sliding down his throat and filling his lungs. Heat prickled behind Woof’s eyes, his arms shaking like leaves, but he had one chance, just one, or they would all perish.

“Leave us alone!”

Woof smashed the lantern against the tree, dry wood igniting in a  _woosh_  of flame. A low rumble thrummed inside the tree as a dark mass of angry bees poured out of their burning home. Expecting the worst, Woof ran as soon as the glass shattered, but Peter wasn’t so lucky. The swarm surrounded him, stinging through fur and skin until even the monstrous wolf screamed in pain. Woof never looked back, dashing through the woods back to the cabin and all but crashing into the prone body of his best friend, fear and waning adrenaline draining him. “Red? Red are you okay?”

The little boy gasped, but bony arms reached for Woof, trying to hold on, even as all the color drained out of Red’s face. Woof’s face was covered in blood. The image would haunt Red for years, but that didn’t stop him from pulling the wolf into an embrace, heart hammering in his chest like it was about to explode. Everything was spinning. A thick stream of crimson dripped down the side of the human’s head, staining his shirt. Red just wanted to lie down. He only needed a few minutes, just long enough for everything to stop. He didn’t realize he’d babbled that out loud, trying so hard to pull himself off the floor but not getting very far. He was going to have a bump on his skull for days.

“No one says advent-ers hurt.” With a shaky hand, tried to wipe the blood off of Woof’s chin. He only managed to smear it across the pup’s mouth, and Red didn’t know how he kept from screaming. He had no idea how they were going to get home. All he wanted was to get back to his Dad, and in that moment, he was terrified.

Red had fought a monster for him. His best friend had never seemed dangerous before. They clung to each other too tightly, fighting for calm as the sounds of Peter’s screams faded into the distance.

“Is Widow Opie dead?” Red sobbed. He’d never been close with the kindly old woman, but now he mourned her like family. “Did he kill her?”

Woof shook his head jerkily, hands fluttering anxiously over the other boy. “Sh-she’s okay. She’s not dead.” He didn’t want to explain exactly how she’d survived, unsure of how he’d even managed to heal her. The pain still swam through his veins, a foreign ache in addition to his own screaming body. It had saved her, but it was one more thing that set him apart. In the moment he’d been so proud that he had managed to heal her when Peter was telling him he would never be anything but a monster like him, but with Red’s terrified, bloodstained face looking up at him, Woof couldn’t get himself to admit the truth.

“I’ve got you.” The wolf promised instead, unclasping the stained and shredded cloak from around his neck and wrapping it around his best friend like it was a piece of armor that could keep Red safe. “I’m sorry, I ruined it…”

This was his fault, Peter had come back for him after all these years. The monster had been out there all these years waiting to take him and the Widow Opie and Red could have died because of it. All of this was his fault. “I’m sorry, Red. I’m gonna take care of you.” He pulled the human back down into his arms, shaking fingers tracing the bleeding wound on the side of Red’s head. Pain raced up his arm as he stole the sharpest edges of his best friend’s agony before he could stop himself.

“Nah… No, Woof, s’not.” Red protested before he could even find the words, shoulders slumping because his kneejerk reaction would always be to protect his best friend against the worst trouble, especially from himself. He gasped, as warmth fled through him, and everything drained away. It felt like oil was dripping across his skin, greasy and slick, and stealing everything in its path. He groaned, not out of discomfort but unfamiliarity, shoving his face into the wolf’s neck. Seconds stretched into minutes, into hours. When it was all over, Red wasn’t sure relief could be this light.

“What’d you…” He started, and automatically felt silly. Woof couldn’t do that! Whatever that was. Right? He threw himself at his best friend with renewed vigor, squeezing the air out of him. Red didn’t notice how the wound on his head had closed over.

“Gotta get you outta here, Woof, you and Widow Opie, and everything’s gonna be okay. Come on, before he comes back.” He dragged the wolf to his feet with a new strength, but he never expected the wolf to come undone.

Scott doubled over, stomach heaving as tears streaked down the dirt of his cheeks. He felt like someone had carved him open and left him raw. There was so much foreign pain swimming through his body, but the worst part was feeling exposed like taking their pain had taken a part of them into himself and let them touch something in him that was intensely private. It was exhilarating and agonizing all at once, it left his head spinning and his heart stuttering in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to curl into himself and sob or burst out laughing at the sheer, unfamiliar joy of it.

“Woof, Woof - Scott?!” Red’s voice climbed almost as fast as his eyebrows shot to his hairline. He embraced his best friend, as if he could keep the wolf from falling apart if he squeezed hard enough. Scott’s shoulders trembled like leaves in the wind, and Red was reminded of pulling his best friend out of a mud bath in the worst sort of way. He didn’t want Woof to die. Woof wasn’t allowed to die!

“M’okay.” The wolf said automatically with a ragged little smile, wondering just how much of himself his best friend had seen and if his secrets were still unknown. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.” He wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand and rubbed it on the leg of his pants in disgust.

“W-we have to get out of here in case he comes back. Don’t worry about me, can you walk? We have to try and carry Ms. Opie, I don’t think she can move on her own and we can’t leave her behind. He was going to eat her, Red. He wanted me-, h-he wanted…” The wolf shook his pounding head, smoothing his hands over Red’s shoulders and the ruined fabric of his favorite hood. “We need to go home. Your Dad can help, he’ll know what to do to for her.”

He grit his jaw, convinced that Woof was trying to pull away, and he only held on tighter. Red didn’t want to move, but Woof was right. They had to get out of here, and they couldn’t leave Widow Opie behind. Yet all he wanted to do was hide under the covers with his best friend until the world stopped feeling so cruel.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out,” he insisted. They had no other choice.

It took them what felt like an age to put together a litter, and longer still to help tiny Widow Opie on it. Her brittle bones felt so heavy, and Red had to bite back a sob when they first saw her. They moved as quickly as they could, looking over their shoulders every few steps, but it was slow work. Every time Mrs. Opie made a tired, strangled sound, they froze, afraid that it would be her lest. Red was almost convinced they would never get home.

“The bridge,” he bemoaned. “What are we gonna do? It’s out!” They were convinced they’d have to turn and leave, until the familiar tap-tap-tapping of Woodsman Stilinski’s tools caught their attention. He yelled when he first saw his boy, but when he saw Widow Opie, he fell quiet.

The Woodsman had known something was wrong. His boys never would have disobeyed him when a poor sickly old woman was involved.

“It was a wolf,” Red said, afterwards, when Widow Opie slept in their bed, and the family had relocated to the Woodsman’s bedroom, huddled together like scared chicks. “I saw it in Scott’s mirror, and I ran. It was a wolf doing all those killings, just a crazy wolf. I never saw it before.”

And under the covers, he squeezed Woof’s hand. Red might not have been a good liar, but he’d never had more motivation than now.

Scott nodded silently, following his friend’s lead. The wolf part was true enough, but they didn’t say a word about knowing Peter or Woof’s ability to steal away pain. He wasn’t even sure that Stiles knew about that last part, but the foreign pain still ached in the joints of his bones and all of his walls were down. He felt like everyone who looked at him was able to see right to his most vulnerable parts.

The Woodsman watched his boys closely. He could tell they were keeping something from him, but they both seemed so afraid and the Widow Opie had marks that looked like she’d been attacked by some sort of animal, so he didn’t press them. Instead, he hugged them tightly and tucked them in. There’d be no punishments for what they’d done, he was just glad his children were home safe.

If there was a wild wolf in the woods who’d been responsible for the deaths of their neighbors over the last few months, then they were going to have to round up everyone in the village and hunt it down. Scott shivered at the thought. Peter wasn’t a real wolf, he was a monster, but that didn’t mean he wanted all the people he knew to grab torches and pitchforks. It was too much like his mother. What if they found out about him? Would they do the same thing?

The little wolf snuggled closer to his best friend, unable to look away from the unblemished skin that had been split wide and bleeding back at the Widow’s cottage. He’d done that without even knowing he could and it frightened him.

“Go to sleep, boys. You’re home safe and nothing’s going to happen. You need your rest.” Stilinski said kindly with a kiss on the forehead for them both before closing the door quietly behind him.

There were still things to do. The doctor had been sent for, and word was being spread through their neighborhood about finding Widow Opie’s family. They still needed to send a hunting party to the widow’s cabin. That was grownup stuff, though. For the first time in a long time, Red was happy to leave it to the grownups, hiding himself and his best friend under his Dad’s covers.

“No one needs to know who it was, okay?” Red hissed, like his best friend might not have caught on to his strategy, even if the wolf hadn’t missed a beat when they’d told their story. “They’re gonna find him, and they’re gonna deal with him because he’s a bad - bad monster.”

Because wolves and monsters weren’t the same thing anymore. They couldn’t be, when Woof was wrapped in his arms, and Red was convinced he never wanted to let him go. The strangest part was that he felt fine. He wasn’t even sore, thought Red was certain he’d never swung an axe harder in his life, and he distinctly remembered when Peter reached for him and… The boy shivered, tucking his nose against Woof’s shoulder, tangling himself against him until he wasn’t sure whose knobby knee belonged to whom.

“They’ll get rid of him this time, for sure.”

Woof nodded again, worrying his bottom lip nervously between his teeth. This was all his fault. He’d thought Peter was long gone. It had been so many years since that horrible night in the magical cabin that the whole think that started to feel like some sort of terrible nightmare. Had Peter been stalking him this whole time? Was he waiting out in the woods for years and biding his time or had the older wolf been driven off only to return for him? Why did Peter want to keep him so badly and what was going to happen if he ever succeeded? If Peter was determined, then he’d be back and Woof shivered at the thought. Home wasn’t safe anymore and he didn’t want to give words to his fear even if Red already knew.

He stroked his hand down the human’s arm, more to settle himself than to sooth Red. “They’ll find him.” The little wolf echoed, trying so hard to believe Red even if he knew it was a lie. He wanted to think the villagers would be able to stop him even if doubt gnawed at his stomach. If Peter could wait so long to come back, he was careful enough to stay away until he could try again.

“Quit it, looking like that,” Red huffed, shoving a hand at the wolf’s face, but once it was there, it was clear he didn’t know what to do with it. He faltered, petting his best friend’s cheek and squishing the bridge of his nose. He didn’t like seeing that expression on Woof’s face. If they were going to believe they were safe now, they had to at least look the part. “You’ll see I’m right. I’m always right.”

He jabbed at Woof’s belly until the big bad predator squirmed, and Red could wrangle a laugh out of him.

“How did you manage to heal my head?”

Woof stared in shock, so Red rolled on top of his best friend, hugging him tight enough to make all his promises come true. He only let up after Woof hugged back, just as hard. 

“I-I don’t know.” Woof brushed careful fingertips across Red’s forehead, the pale skin completely unbroken where there’d been a deep gash only hours before. Ghost pain jangled in his nerves, body still raw with stolen aches. “He hurt you and I…I tried to fix it. I don’t know what I did, it just sort of happened. I did it with Widow Opie too, she looked like she was dying and I didn’t want her to. I didn’t know what else to do to make her better.” Woof curled his fingers into his palm, afraid to even touch Red again in case that inhuman part of himself sparked again.

“Dude, that’s so cool!” Red squawked, waving his hands in the air to the best of his ability. It was more challenging when he didn’t want to break out of their blanket cocoon, but he managed. His enthusiasm would not be beaten down, and Woof did not understand what this meant. “You saved her life!” He looked up quickly, half-convinced his Dad was about to burst through the doorway before hissing, “YOU saved her life!”

Woof was trying to pull away. Red didn’t notice. He was too busy squishing his best friend back into the bed. Scrawny arms wound tight around the pup’s frame, dragging him close as Red cuddled the life out of him. The words were easy to say, but understanding seeped in at a slower pace. Red rubbed circles into Woof’s back, and the need to hold him came back tenfold.

“You saved my life.”

Woof saved his life. Woof was always saving his life, and Red pressed his cheek against his wolf’s. There was so much danger around them, and the woods they called their home weren’t as safe as they once were (or maybe they had never been as safe as the boys thought). Yet when they huddled close, just like this, Red was sure that they’d won.

Woof never thought of himself as a hero, but Red made him feel brave like no one else could. He hadn’t meant to heal anyone, he just knew he had to do something. Red had been so hurt and Widow Opie almost died, he hadn’t had time to think of how terrified he was before reaching out and trying to help them. Or stand up to Peter even though he knew there was no chance of winning. Would it be enough for the next time?

“I would have been in so much trouble if you hadn’t followed me out there. You saved me too. You’re a hero, Red.”

“We’re both heroes, Woof.”

“Just like in the stories.”

Their dreams were about bright armor shining in the sun, the clash of swords on dragon scales and beautiful princesses who fell in love with the bravest warriors. That was a hero. The only thing Woof saw when he closed his eyes now was sharp teeth and terror stalking him through the shadows of the forest as he scrambled to run away. He buried his fear as deep as he could and closed his eyes, silent and lulled by the sound of Red’s heart.

The world was changing and the monsters were coming. For the first time, Woof wasn’t sure they’d be ready.


	9. Chapter 9

“Made from the finest pelt in the land,” the shopkeeper boasted proudly, holding up the wolf’s fur and dusting it off as the traveler counted coin. “It came from one of the wildest wolves to ever terrorize the Outskirts. They say it was possessed by a demon, but a few good arrows cut it down well enough. Now that will keep your nights warm.”

Scott felt his ears burn as the vendor recounted her tale after her customer’s first paltry offer. It was always the same, even if this wasn’t the first or first hundredth time he’d heard the story. Over two years ago, the hunting party had run for weeks on end to find Peter, and when they returned triumphant with a monstrous pelt that looked more like it belonged to a bear than a wolf, he wanted so badly to believe that it was all over. He still did, but Peter was so much slyer than anyone gave him credit for.

The wolf waved to the shopkeeper, holding the Woodsman’s list for his regular order in one hand before dropping a small purse of gold on her counter. She barely gave it a cursory shake and offered him and easy smile. Debts from townies were easy to manage, and the Stilinski boys were always polite (or this one was anyway). Woof let her get back to business. He gathered up their groceries, tucking everything under his arm and walked straight into Anabelle. Her parents ran the general store, and Woof was horrified he’d hurt her.

“Sorry!” The young wolf apologized immediately, dropping all of the bundles he carried as he stuttered and gathered everything back into his arms. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”

The girl laughed, brushing out her skirts and flashing Woof a smile that set his heart racing in strange, uncomfortable ways. He swallowed hard, watching her like she was some sort of new dangerous creature that he’d never seen before. Maybe she was. Girls had suddenly become fascinating, frightening things that he didn’t understand. It seemed like from one day to the next, they’d gained the ability to muddle his head and make him forget how to form words. “I’m fine. Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

“FINE.” His voice broke embarrassingly and Woof ducked his head, clearing his throat before he tried again. “Fine, I’m okay. I wasn’t really looking where I was going.”

“Yes, I got that much. It always seems like you’re in a rush when you’re in town, you never stay long.”

“I-I have to, uh, w-we live in the woods?”

She laughed again and Woof had the feeling that he kept saying the wrong thing. Was there even a right thing? Was she some kind of sorceress, was this what it was like being under a spell? Did spells make you sweat so much?

“I know you do, silly! You and your brother just don’t ever spend enough time in town, you should come visit more often. Even when you don’t have errands to run.”

“Oh. Why would I come to town without errands to run?”

She winked and leaned in so close that Woof’s heart tried to escape his rib cage, almost as if she was going to kiss him. “I can think of a few reasons.”

Woof let out an undignified meep as his fingers went numb, and a bundle of candles rolled right out of them. He felt like a giant, squirmy mess. The closest he’d ever been to something like this was when he’d caught a fever a few springs back, but that happened after he was out in the rain all night. Outside, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“Yeah? Like - like what?” He asked, trying to force words out when he was overwhelmed by how pretty her eyes were and how nice she smelled. It was just really, really nice? How did girls go around smelling so nice all the time? Or it could have been a townspeople thing; after all, not everyone lived in the woods.

“Like make friends.”

“I like friends. I like them a lot.” Woof couldn’t help but nod eagerly. It sent everything up a notch, and he blurted out, “You smell really pretty. I mean look! Nice! You look very pretty nice.”

“Thank you.” Anabelle laughed again and suddenly Woof could hear her heart beat, skipping rabbit fast like Red’s would when they tumbled down bales of hay. Woof forgot to breathe when she took his hand, slender but strong, calloused from working at her parents’ store but gentle as she pressed his candles back into his grip. “I really like you, too.”

She was leaning closer and closer, the apples of her cheeks flushed with color, and Woof couldn’t stop following her racing pulse. Then the store’s front door banged open, and a familiar voice yelled, “SCOTT GUESS WHAT I FOUND!”

“Hi!” Red greeted, bounding over to his brother and yanking him into a one-armed hug, trying to shove a stuffed toad into his face.

“Hi.” Woof squeaked.

“Hi.” Anabelle sighed.

“Heeeey.” Red drawled the word, turning on the Stilinski charm with a wink. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been any Stilinski charm left since his father wooed his mother. “You wanna see my toad?”

Anabelle shrieked.

“Ew! What’s wrong with you?” She scolded sharply, clutching her arms across her chest. “You’re so gross. Scott, why don’t you come and visit me at the general store before you have to go home. My Dad just got a whole new shipment of sweets in from the city and I’ll be there with some of my friends who’re just dying to meet you. You did say you like friends, right?”

“I-I, friends.” The little wolf said eloquently.

“Good, I’ll see you then.” She gave him a smile that made his whole body tingle and flush, feverishly hot. “I’ll let everyone know you’re coming.” With a flurry of skirts that left Woof stammering, she slowly made her way back up the street.

Red whistled low under his breath, elbowing his best friend in the ribs. “Wow, Anabelle got  _hot_. I think she likes me, dude. I’ll bet she’s actually asking me to make out with her or something.” He said, narrow chest puffed with pride. “That toad thing always works, I wish you’d let me teach you a few tricks. If her friends are going to be there, maybe you’ll be able to impress someone too.”

“Red, I don’t-”

“We should get them flowers or something! Girls like flowers.” Red plowed on, completely oblivious as he tucked his squirming friend under his arm. “Stick with me, by the time we meet up with them, I’ll make you irresistible to girls just like me.”

“Great.” Woof sighed, his shoulders slumping. It felt like something phenomenal had just passed him by, like watching a tornado swoop down and pick up the house next to theirs, not Widow Opie’s though; she was living with relatives now, and no one had taken over her little cabin yet, even if he and Red tried to build a frog pond in her front yard once. Red proudly wiggled his puffed up toad in his best friend’s face, drawing out that awed  _oooh_ he’d been looking for all day.

“Maybe I’ll even let you bring this! You could use all the help you can get, dude. How’d you even get Annabelle to talk to you? Did you have to bug her a lot? Dude, don’t ruin my chances!”

“Trust me, you can do that on your own.” Baiting Red was easy, and when his best friend squawked with righteous indignation, Woof offered him the biggest, toothy smile he could muster. He wondered if he could make Annabelle laugh like Red, and suddenly, his entire face went hot. The wolf was half-convinced that if he didn’t shove his face into a barrel of water, it would melt right off. “Red?” He squeaked, trying so hard to remain calm, and failing miserably. “What’s it like to kiss a girl?”

“What’s it like to kiss a girl? He asks me ‘what’s it like to kiss a girl!” The other boy heehawed obnoxiously. “It’s a good thing you asked me, dude. I kissed  _so many_  girls.”

So many.

“Red, what girls have you been kissing?” Woof asked, confused. He knew all the same people and they only ever came to town together, he’d never seen Red kissing anyone. There weren’t girls out in the woods either, at least not human ones and he doubted Red even noticed the shy sprites and dryads that watched them from the shadows.

“So many, I just said that!” Red huffed, giving his friend a shove and almost tipping the wolf sideways. “You just don’t know, I don’t tell you everything.”

“You don’t tell me everything?”

The wolf had such a hurt look on his face that Red had to let a little of the air out of his ego with a sigh and slung his arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “I do tell you everything, that’s why I’m going to tell you all my secrets for kissing a girl. Kisses are magical, you can break a curse and save a kingdom with one of them, that’s why I’m so good. After I fight my way to the Princess Rapunzel, I’ll win her with a kiss.” He paused, glancing at his friend’s questioning expression and finished with the one explanation that always worked when he didn’t have a real answer. “It’s a human thing.”

“Oh.” That sort of made sense, humans did have strange customs even if Woof had learned to parrot most of them by now. It could explain the way Annabelle made him feel and the fluttery terror in his stomach every time she smiled.

“C’mon, let’s go get some flowers and meet her quick before she changes her mind.”

“I don’t think we should bring the toad though, it didn’t seem like she liked it.”

“Are you crazy?” Red waved the toad in Woof’s face. “This is the best part! All you have to do is trust me. By the end of the day, we’re both going to be dating the prettiest girls in the whole village.”

“Dating?” Woof asked dubiously, his stomach twisting in knots. That sounded like a lot of work! “How are we going to do that if we don’t live in town?”  

“Dude,  _girls._  Pretty girls. Pretty, shiny, nice girls.” Red had a valid argument. Woof only wanted to pull his hair out a little. It helped that whenever he thought about Annabelle, his stomach threatened to fly away. The wolf snatched the toad out of Red’s hands, giving it an experimental squeeze. Its glass eyes stared at him unseeingly.

“… Okay, but if this goes bad, it’s all your fault.”

“Puh-leeze, Woof. By the time we’re done, you’re going to be thanking me for introducing you to the magic of girls”

They ran to the General Store, where Red fussed over Woof for three whole minutes about looking frumpy. Woof argued that Red didn’t know what frumpy meant. Red argued that frumpy was  _your face._

“Scott!” Annabelle called from inside, waving eagerly. “Come in! We have pixie sticks.”

The wolf perked up and rushed to her side, only for his expression to twist as he saw little white sticks made out of ground sugar. “Oh… I thought you meant fairy sticks.” But she turned to him with a quizzical expression, her skirt brushing against his pants leg, and suddenly, his tongue was glued to the top of his mouth. “Like like you know when  _they_ make them out of of that sweet stuff from flowers and it’s like honey.”

Annabelle giggled like he told a joke, and Woof shoved three pixie sticks into his mouth to stop his brain from breaking.

“Check it out, girls, the real fun has arriiiived,” Red announced, stepping into the middle of the room with his hands spread out, ready for their love.

The girls turned to look at Red as one, conversation dying away as they stared. Annabelle gently took Woof’s arm, pulling him aside to murmur in his ear as shivers raced up the boy’s spine at the feeling of her breath against his skin. “Why did you bring him?”

“He’s my friend?” He blinked back, genuinely confused. He and Red always went places together even if lately, that closeness had started to chafe. Teenage years were an awkward time for anyone and as much as he loved his best friend, Red sometimes came off as abrasive where Woof was gentle. He didn’t know if it was alright to be secondhand embarrassed for someone else, but he wouldn’t let anyone else ever speak badly the other boy. “I thought you invited us?”

Annabelle just sighed and drew the young wolf away towards the back of the shop as Red whipped out his toad to a chorus of shrieks. “You’re kind of strange, you know that? You’re not like the other boys.”

“I’m not?” Red was the only other boy that Woof knew well and he thought they were a lot alike. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s a good thing. The other boys are loud and gross. You’re always so sweet. I’ve seen you helping people in the market place and there’s something mysterious about you that I like. You’re never in town long enough for anyone to get to know. Everyone is always wondering about you.”

“T-they are?” He couldn’t look away from her eyes, deep brown and endless. The sound of her heartbeat filled in all the spaces between them and he could practically feel the excited thrum in his fingertips. What was that about the Stilinski charm? That sounded like it would come in handy right about now.

“They sure are.” Annabelle said, voice dropping low as Woof’s gut dropped with it. “I’d like us to be friends, if that’s okay? That way I can get to know you better.” She leaned in close as her warmth spilled across him. Her lips were petal pink and soft, fascinating Woof who was rooted still in shock. A real magic kiss, he was going to get his first kiss!

“HEY THERE, SORRY ‘BOUT THE INTERRUPTION, WE GOTTA GO, BYE.” Woof found his face stuff hard into Red’s armpit as his friend tried to drag him bodily out of the shop.

Annabelle flushed beet-red with shock and embarrassment, and Woof was trying to catch up when a shriek of, “Help Marigold fainted!” echoed through the store. The wolf took one look at his best friend’s terrified expression. He was running before Red could yell, “Book it, dude!”  
  
They ran like their lives depended on it, catching hints of the ruckus they’d left behind.

“What did you do?!”

“Can you be allergic to toads?!”

Woof had no idea, and Red didn’t want to find out. They ran until all they could do was topple over, tripping over their own feet as they scrambled into the wagon they had parked by the inn. Their donkey didn’t even look up.

“Not a word,” Red wheezed, unfastening their noble steed’s reigns as Woof proceeded to die in the middle of their cart. “You know, it could have gone worse? I wasn’t really looking to date anyone anyway.”

Woof groaned dramatically, throwing his arms over his face. “If Dad finds out, we’re dead!“

There was no ‘if’ about it. They were going to be banned forever from the general store, and the Woodsman was going to hear everything, and they’d never be allowed out of the house again!

“Oh shut up, it wasn’t like you were doing any better.”

“I might’ve been!”

Woof crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Red huffed right back at him. It was going to be a long ride home, but best friends couldn’t be silent forever, not when they were right next to each other. Eventually Woof climbed into the seat beside Red, and all it took was Red throwing a thousand peanut shells at his forehead.

“Red?” The wolf got little more than a grunt in answer. It was enough. “What’s kissing like?”

“What - what’s kissing like? Pffft! He asks what kissing’s like HA HA! Ow!” Woof only had to elbow him a little to get Red to shut up. Then the human’s arm shot out, and he wiggled away, expecting a punch in retaliation. Yet Red’s fist just stopped inches from his mouth, held loose and… A little weird. “It feels just like that, but you know, with tongue.”

“Kissing someone is like kissing your hand?” Woof leveled the most skeptical of eyebrows at his friend and gave him a gentle shove. “Yeah, okay. I’m starting to think that maybe you haven’t kissed as many people as you said.”

Red was outraged that anyone would doubt his completely correct and in no way embellished or totally made up story. “You’re the one who’s asking me.” He snorted derisively. “How would you know if you’ve never kissed anyone at all? You’re going to just have to trust my expertise on this, I know what I’m talking about.” With a wicked grin, he wiggled his hand in front of his best friend’s face.

“Dude, stop it. What are you doing?” Woof shoved the other boy’s arm away with a laugh.

“I’m helping you out because I’m awesome! You should totally practice on my hand. That way you won’t mess up again with the ladies.”

Woof could barely keep himself from rolling his eyes, biting back unkind comments. The only reason he messed up was because the Stilinski charm involved grossing girls out until they fainted and then running away moments before he could have kissed someone who had actually wanted to try it with him. A real girl, someone pretty and kind who saw him as just another human. But they were a team and when one of them struck out, it was only fair they both did. Okay, maybe not fair, but when Red was involved, it was expected. “I’m not going to kiss your hand, that’s weird.”

“Your face is weird. C'mon, Woof. I’m trying to be helpful here. As long as you don’t drool on it or anything, it’ll be good practice.”

“No way!”

“Kiss it. Kiss iiiit! KISS IT!”

The story of why they ran the cart into a ditch and were late for supper was only improved by neither boy’s willingness to admit why they were late, but they repaired the front wheel without complaint. They looked so miserably hungry while they recounted their tale, the Woodsman had no choice but to postpone punishment. Besides, he was pretty sure they punished each other enough.

But in the middle of the night, with his covers drawn to his chest and only the creaking of an old house to distract him, Woof touched his fingers to his lips and thought about how warm Red’s hand had been before Woof had socked him in the eye. 


	10. Chapter 10

Sixteen was an agony. Woof’s skin itched with possibilities, form fluid and pulled in two directions at once. All the fleeting, confusing feelings had solidified into a heavy weight in his chest (and sometimes his groin), hormones as shifting as the rest of him. Worse was the lie that pulsed with every beat of his heart, an embarrassing little secret that he couldn’t admit to anyone.  _He liked Red_.

It was that desperate teenage angst and awkward sort of first love, all emotion and no follow through. It was new and frightening and too overwhelming for a boy who wasn’t even able to hold himself to a single shape, let alone the boundaries of what friendship should be. His gut twisted unhappily every time Red grew dreamy, planning out their rescue of the strawberry blonde princess in the tower and their fantasy happily ever after. It had always been enough to be by Red’s side, a heroic knight who fought with his best friend to the very end, but it didn’t do anything to stop the way his heart ached or the way his hands wandered down his dusky brown skin when Red was asleep, trying to ease the shameful need that crackled through his nerves.

Sixteen was an agony. It was when everything ended and everything started.

Woof spent another sleepless night, moon boiling his blood, so much worse now that her full form filled the sky. He twisted in sweaty sheets, sometimes human, sometimes wolf, never comfortable. He gave up with a sigh, watching the bright moonlight spill through their window. It had never been so difficult to keep control before, no one had warned him it would all beso much. Did humans feel this way too? Red never said anything and he was afraid to ask in case it was just one more thing that set him apart.

The heavy smack of an unwelcome pillow attacked with the swiftness of a shadow in the night. The wolf yelped, scrambling to his feet, but Red was already on him, smothering him with his palm as he beat him with his cushion.

“Shhhh!” Red spat through clenched teeth, until the other teen stopped wiggling underneath him. He ignored Woof’s sleepy (but very intimidating!) glare, carelessly moving into his best friend’s space. “You’re gonna wake dad.”

“You just woke _me_!”

“Yeah, but I can’t sleep.” Red explained, like it was the most logical thing in the world. Woof wanted to be madder, except Red was letting him rest his head on his lap, and there were too many things happening at once.

“Well, I was sleeping.”

“Suck it up,” Red huffed, but his fingers were in Woof’s hair, and he was doing that scratchy thing he usually reserved for when he knew he really messed up, or when he was trying to wheedle something out of Woof. The wolf relaxed into his best friend, nuzzling just a little against Red’s lap and trying not to think about how close he was to  _things_  and  _parts_. Or about  _his_ parts and things. Everything was a mix of terrible and awesome, and Woof’s leg twitched as Red hit that sensitive spot behind his ear. The human’s smile was bright in the darkness, a Cheshire grin as he exploited Woof’s weakness until his leg shot out. He had to swat Red’s hands away with a quiet laugh, rolling his friend up in his arms.

“So mean.”

“Oh, you like it! You want me to give you belly rubs?”

“Shut up, butt.”

They lapsed into amicable silence as the wolf listened to the beat of Red’s heart, trying to find comfort in the familiar rhythm. It helped to sooth the moonlight in his veins, calming that irritated caged beast inside of himself that paced restlessly for release. Maybe it wasn’t a wolf thing after all, maybe it was just a part of being a boy.

“I wasn’t really sleeping.” Woof finally admitted, poking Red in the side. “It’s bad tonight.”

“Oh.” Red’s brows furrowed before smoothing out, and with a calculated motion, he dragged his best friend closer and tried to smother him to death in his clavicles. Woof went along willingly enough, and no one actually died. That was a victory. “You wanna go, like, running through the fields with your magical fireflies?”

There was a hint of annoyance in Red’s tone, but it was faint. It went away when Woof nudged him. Red had never seen the pixies again, even that one time he’d joined Woof in the woods to give them an offering. They’d come, but briefly, flying behind his head to settle on Woof’s shoulders. Before the shapeshifter could call out, their winged companions had taken off, leaving bites all over the sticky bun they’d brought along.

“No,” the wolf huffed. Then after a beat, “Maybe.”

Red would never understand just how alluring the call of the moon was, and Woof quietly worried that if he did, things would never be the same between them. He wasn’t human, but on nights like this, he was reminded of just how much that meant. Red couldn't even see the dark black bands that wrapped around his left arm like a tattoo, clear as day to the wolf, but invisible to humans.

“Dude, y’know what? You’re  _gonna_  be tired. You gotta be, once I tell you all the cool things we’re gonna do tomorrow.”

Woof quirked a brow, pulling away just far enough so Red could see the intent in his squint. He was promptly ignored.

“We’re gonna need a ride to get to see the  _Princess_.” And there was never any question about which Princess Red was talking about. “So I was thinking dragons.”

Once Red got started talking about his favorite subject, it was hard to bring him back down to earth. His face lit up, spinning their story with complete conviction. It was fact, it was just a matter of time until they made it come true.

“You don’t know anything about dragons. We might have to fight them, but riding them? They’d be more likely to eat us. I don’t really want to be eaten, Red.”

“We’re not going to be eaten, doofus. We’re going to defeat them and then tame them like horses. Just, yanno, bigger than the house and covered with scales. And breathing fire. Whatever, it’s going to be amazing, you’ll see.” He squished his Woof’s face, annoyed whenever the other boy questioned the vision. “Can you imagine us rescuing the Princess on fire breathing dragons? She’ll be swooning right out of that tower at the sight of us and everyone’s going to know we’re the bravest heroes that ever existed. They’ll probably make us their rulers as soon as they see us.”

“Yeah.” Woof didn’t mean to feel so irritated at Red’s story. There were days when he still listened with rapt attention as his friend talked about their future battles and the adventures they’d both have, but it all felt so far away from them. Red had given his heart away to a dream that didn’t exist when Woof’s beat right in his hands. It wasn’t fair…and it wasn’t fair to expect anything but this. A friend was supportive, no matter what. No matter if it hurt.

“Flying sounds nice.”

“What’s eating you?” Red snapped, defensive over Woof’s less-than-stellar attitude. Dragons were the best part, and the other boy’s lack of interest chaffed. They were both supposed to want this, and the idea that Woof could ever change his mind wasn’t one Red wanted to spend this night considering. 

Woof never got a chance to reply. There was a sharp rapping on the window, and for a moment, both boys froze, certain that it’d break. Then lights sparked across the glass, bright enough to challenge the moon, and everything ceased to matter. Both boys gasped, and scrambled to their feet, shushing each other belatedly as they dragged their sheets across the floor. Excited faces squished against the windows, watching the fairy lights wax and wane just on the other side. One of them flew close enough that Woof could almost see the fairy’s outline through the shimmering light. She landed right in front of his nose, tapped the glass, and took off into the woods.

Red turned, a wicked grin on his face and laughed when he saw it mirrored on his best friend’s. They didn’t speak a word, but they both already knew what was coming next. Mindful of the way it creaked, they worked open the window and crept out into the night air, just barely remembering to grab their shoes.

“These was easier when we were ten.” Red wheezed.

“This is easier when you don’t kick me in the gut!”

Woof shoved at his friend, laughing behind his hand when Red pinwheeled to keep from falling over. The wolf took off with a run, the light of the full moon making him feel bigger than his skin. Its powers coursed through his veins, singing strength into his blood, but the crimson in his eyes faded when his best friend’s hand brushed against his and a grinning face crept into view. Their target danced and bobbed before them, almost like she was baiting them, but if it was a trap, Woof wanted to be caught.

Red kept him grounded and he caught the other boy’s hand like they were kids again and his heart didn’t threaten to break through his ribs every time they touched. It was a terrible, wonderful sort of torture with the moonlight spilling across his body and all he wanted to do was pull Stiles in close and steal the smile from his mouth. They could have a real kiss, his first, he could almost feel the warmth in his best friend’s lips and the little shuddering gasp as they’d share a breath. He was skating close to the edge, filled with a power that made him reckless and brave, but control was hard won. It wasn’t easy to resist when he wanted so badly to give in, but Red’s hand squeezed him tight and brought him back. They were human as long as he could hold on.

One fairy was joined by another, then another, and another until the boys couldn’t keep count. They chased the dancing lights and laughed through the forest. Tonight was a night for being wild. Trees bent and whispered as they passed, leaves and shadows peering down like faces through their branches to watch the boys. The little creek splashed happily in the darkness, silvered shapes like graceful women breaking through the surface before darting shyly away. Everything was alive under the full moon and Stiles’s jaw dropped, glimpsing a world he had believed in so completely but had never been allowed to see.

They followed the faint sound of bells and music and bright crystal laughter. The trees opened up into a small clearing that neither of them recognized, ringed with bright lights that seemed to dance to the distant melody. Woof laughed, ears twitching as his animal side bled through. He tackled his best friend to the cool grass, tussling and wrestling as the fairies darted teasingly between them. They played until they were exhausted and the pull of the moonlight lessened, collapsing among the little blue flowers and laughing so hard their bellies hurt. Woof held out his arm as a fairy lit on his finger for a brief second before flitting off with a teasing giggle. Red had never seen his friend like this, strange and otherworldly, but somehow like he belonged. This was the world of stories and magic, but Woof had been home in them all along and instead of being jealous, all he could do was marvel.

“Red?”

“Yeah?”

They curled into each other, Woof’s lazy grin twitching the corner of his mouth as secrets fought to free themselves. It was a magical night, maybe it was time to try for the impossible. “Red, I…I wanted to tell you. I just-, you and me…”

There was a shriek of alarm and the spell was broken. The fairy lights winked out, leaving the boys in darkness as the creatures fled back into the forest. Something frightened them and Woof bolted upright in surprise, looking around the quiet woods for some sign of danger.

“Dude, what was that?” Red whispered, a shiver crawling up his spine.

“I don’t know.” Woof whispered back, keeping his voice low like there was something out there that could be listening. He stood up and pulled his friend to his feet, brushing off the grass as they quietly made their way back across the glade.

“Did we do something wrong?”

“I don’t think so. They brought us there, we weren’t disturbing them.” Woof stumbled forward, toes catching in the uneven earth and he stopped, prodding the hold with his foot. Then the next. And the next. Paw prints.

“No…”

Red tensed, but didn’t stop, trying his best to follow the trail as the moon peeked over their heads. He kept his hand on Woof’s elbow, almost like he couldn’t help himself. The fact that they were in nothing but their pajamas hadn’t seemed important before, but now, the boys wondered about the weapons they’d never have the chance to bring. They didn’t get far. Every crashed together with painful realization.

“They’re headed towards the cabin!” 

Red didn’t care if he was wrong. He had to check. He tore through the woods, rushing through paths he could barely see before he noticed the figure chasing after his heels. Woof was as swift as the wind rustling through the trees even as his blood boiled through his veins. The unseen faces in the night watched with hope and concern and the easy detachment of the fey, but as adrenaline’s fangs sank into Woof’s mind, the only world he cared about was the one that had taken him in and given him a home when he needed it the most.

They smelled smoke before anything else. The air was hot against their cheeks, and when the forest was bathed in light, Red had to stop and stare. The cabin was on fire, wood crackling and burning as the flames ate through. As they watched, the roof collapsed inwards, and Red shrieked, barreling towards the wreck. Woof grabbed him before he could get any closer, knocking them both into the dirt with a pained  _oof._  The human screamed, tearing at his best friend. It took everything in Woof to hold on, his head spinning as their lives came crashing down around them.

“Let me go, Scott. LET ME GO!” 

“STOP!” Woof roared, pinning the other boy into the dirt. His heart was racing so fast, he was sure it was going to break through his ribs. He didn’t want to understand what happened, what was still happening. Dread rang through his skull, threatening to drag him in, and Woof was certain that once he let it, it would drown him. All he could think of was keeping Red safe. Anything else would destroy him. “You can’t, Red, you can’t!”

“My Dad’s in there!” Red screamed, fighting against his friend to get to get to what was left of their home. “DAD!”

Woof held on tight as his best friend thrashed and clawed to get free, punched and scraped until the hysterical rage burned itself out and the human went still with an agonized sob. Red curled into the other boy, crying too hard to breathe and Scott barely knew how to comfort him. The Woodsman hadn’t been his real father, but had been more of a family than he’d ever had with anyone else. This was home, and it had all been stolen away from him in a rush of flame, just like his first. He gathered Red up in his arms, wiping dirty fingers down his friend’s tear-streaked face as they both cried, holding each other because they had no one left in the world.

“W-we’ve got to get help.” The young wolf finally managed to say, his mind a blank and feeling lost. There had to be someone who’d know what to do, they could get to the village and…and someone could help them. Somehow. “Red, we can’t stay here.”

Red shook his head, boneless and broken, unable to move. “I can’t. He’s all I have.”

“Please, we need to tell someone.” He struggled to lift the other boy to his feet, stumbling under Red’s dead weight. “I’ve got you.”

“My Dad’s gone, Scott.” The boy’s voice broke, rough and raw from screaming. He said the words like he was numb, a fact he couldn’t accept. Any second his Dad was going to come out of the woods and scold them both for sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. It was all going to be okay, his Dad was just looking for them.

A howl split the night and both teens froze, breath sucked from their lungs in fear.

“We have to go, now!” Woof hissed, dragging Red along with him. “We have to get to the village.”

Red stumbled, moving like he was in a daze no matter how hard Woof tugged, but the wolf would never leave him behind. They had never felt so young, and the familiar woods had never been so cruel. Their tired feet sank into soft dirt as they headed towards town, picking up speed as they went, going faster and faster but never fast enough. Another howl echoed in the darkness. Woof felt it, as sharp as any knife, slicing through the back of his skull, and for a moment, he couldn’t move. Doubling over and grabbing his knees, Woof didn’t know if this was all part of some malicious spell or genuine, crippling fear. They’d always had the Woodsman to save them before. A choked sob caught in the back of his throat, and Woof wished he’d already run out of tears to cry.

“Woof?” Red asked, just a few paces away, like he couldn’t think of any way to go on by himself. 

“He’s coming,” Woof whispered. Red gasped, and all Woof wanted to do was hold him. He swallowed thickly. The wolf swiped furiously at his eyes, his face scrunched up like he had any way to stave off the panic that clawed up his spine. “You have to go, Red. I’ll hold him off until you get help. You need to get help. I don’t think - “

_I don’t think we can ever beat him._

But Red only nodded, quiet and solemn, and Woof wished he could take it back. He wished he could say he had no idea what he was doing, say that this was a last desperate effort, and he was scared. He wished he could ask Red to stay because he had no idea if he could do this on his own, but all that came out, in a voice so soft, Woof wasn’t sure he’d spoken was, “I love you.”

Red reached out for him, holding his hand and squeezing it just once. “You’re my brother, Scott.”

Woof tried to crack a smile and saw his pained attempt mirrored on Red’s face. They didn’t say goodbye, but Wolf head on to those final words as Red’s footsteps got farther and farther… And another set approached.

He was sixteen, so much bigger than the child he’d been before, but Woof still felt like that terrified, overwhelmed kid as Peter slid through the shadows, giant and grotesque. He trembled but held his ground, determined to stop the other wolf or die trying. The way back to the village was long on foot and if he failed, Red would die. This was all his fault anyways, Peter had been hunting him for all these years and that obsession had already taken away the only father he’d ever known. No one else was going to die because of him. That was a promise.

Peter barely even looked like a wolf anymore. He’d become a twisted hybrid of wolf and human, looming over the boy on two legs, but still hunched and covered in fur. His face was the worst part, snarling muzzle and a human expression like he’d stopped halfway through his shift. He’d become an actual monster and Woof gulped, flinching back from just the sight.

“My poor little pup.” Peter rumbled, words slurred through a mouth that was never supposed to be able to speak. “Look at you, you’re terrified. I can smell your fear from here. Come with me and I’ll make it all better.”

“You killed the Woodsman.” Scott yelled back, voice strained and rough with the accusation. _My Dad!_  The monster just shrugged, widening its horrible fanged smile.

“I’ve been chasing you for a long time, pup. You’ve forgotten everything it means to be a wolf and those humans are the ones who tamed you. They turned you into their little dog, their pet, with you begging for affection at their feet. Worse, they turned you human. You’re soft like them, nothing but prey. I did you a favor tonight, little one. I told you I was rebuilding my pack and I’m going to save you from this.”

“I don’t care what you say, being a wolf doesn’t mean being like you.”

“You’ll learn, I have so much to teach you.”

Woof shivered, the voice of an alpha playing down his nerves and for a brief moment, he wanted to go. Everything would be better, Red would be safe, and he wouldn’t stop hiding what he was anymore.  _No_! He shook himself, shift rippling across his body as he dropped to his paws and growled. He was going to fight and he was going to do his damnedest to win.

The moon sang through his veins, her strength becoming his own, and when Peter charged, Woof struck fast. Vicious claws tore at his flank, trying to cut him down, but even as Woof cried out, he returned each blow. All he had to do was buy Red some time. His goal repeated like a mantra through his skull, as crimson bloomed across his tattered shirt and his claws turned tacky with blood.  _Buy him time, buy him time, buy him time._  And maybe, just maybe, he’d have the chance to survive.

That night he’d felt invincible. Naivete felt so cruel when Peter could tear apart the illusion, throwing him to the dirt. Woof howled as unforgiving fangs broke through his shoulder, his entire body bowing under the painful assault.

 _Surrender_ , Peter demanded without words, angry red eyes flashing in the dark. Woof couldn’t, not to the monster who’d shattered his family, not when Peter wanted to kill the rest that remained. He was thrown into the dirt, but the wolf refused to stay down, pushing himself with trembling arms. This was too soon. Red couldn’t have made it into town yet. He couldn’t give up!

With a desperate cry, struck by hopeless inspiration, Woof threw himself into the forest. Sharp branches tore at his open wounds, but he was smaller and faster, and the foliage was thick.

Peter snarled, clawing his way through the undergrowth, blood lust whetted by his injured prey. Woof left him a trail to follow, so clear even in the middle of the night, just as he hoped. Once upon a time, they had saved a terrified pup from a tiny dragon. Now, they might save them both.

He skittered through the underbrush, Peter’s breath hot as the monster panted right on his heels. Speed and size could be an advantage here, but not for long. The sheer strength of the mutated creature was terrifying and Peter barreled through the thorny bushes and twisted branches with a crash, snapping wooden limbs with ease. Scott yelped as claws scored his side, tumbling hard into the dirt as he scrambled to get back up. He managed to bite back, mouth filling with foul tainted blood as he sank his fangs into Peter’s leg.

The younger wolf darted between the monster’s enormous paws, striking lightening quick before dashing back to the relative safety of the bushes. He harried Peter, sharp painful wounds that weren’t enough to bring his enemy down, but enraged the beast, keeping his attention focused on Scott instead of Red’s escape.  _Run fast_. He pleaded silently, hoping that his friend would make it. Someone had to survive.

A hard blow from Peter’s paw knocked the wolf sideways and he lay dazed, head ringing as blood matted his fur. “Enough!” The monster howled, power rippling down Woof’s spine as his body bowed to the alpha’s call. He couldn’t lose like this, he would not submit! The young wolf dragged himself to his feet, squaring his shoulders with a low growl of challenge.

“HERE!” A voice, a human shout broke the stalemate as a flaming arrow found its way home in Peter’s throat.

Woof gasped as fire spread across the monster’s flesh, watching in horror as Peter broke off the arrow head and threw it to the ground. Fire licked up his claw, singing his fur, and Woof scrambled on his hands and knees, trying to put as much distance as possible between them. The stench of burning flesh and the echo of a terrified howl haunted him. Unwelcome memories he’d thought he’d long forgotten crept through his thoughts, and giving into terror would be so easy. Arrow after arrow rained down on them, and the monster roared. Yet as a shot set the ground at his feet ablaze, Woof realized with new fear that they weren’t just aiming at Peter.

On aching limbs, he forced himself to his feet, narrowly missing a direct shot to the head. Peter was howling, thrashing in a blind rage. The villagers tried to keep their distance, weary of the monster’s claws, and if they didn’t hit their target, they would be happy to set the forest on fire. A small, desperate voice weaved through the angry mob. “ _Stop, you’ll hit Scott! Don’t hit him!”_

No one paid Red any attention. Even as Woof tried to pull himself together, the humans jeered, chanting for the wolves’ death. He turned to the forest, slowly limping his way through the trees. He never saw the way Peter threw himself at the mob and the gruesome deaths waiting for the villagers that dared defend their home. Someone was hot on Woof’s trail.

The wolf’s form rippled, melting away into soft exposed skin as Scott shifted. Deep cashes and bite wounds marked his body and he pressed shaking hands to his ribs, blood soaking through his fingers.  _Escape!_  It was the only thing his panicked mind could latch on to as he stumbled through the forest, firelight casting grasping shadows around him as the beast burned. There were too many humans with weapons ready to cut down a monster and Peter’s howl rang through his head before it cut off with a terrifying abruptness, sending the boy to his knees in a rush of agony.

Woof collapsed down on the cool earth, breathing hard and retched, stomach sick with fear. He coughed the smoke from his lungs and tried to block out the awful scent of burning flesh and fur. Human fingers dug deep into the dead leaves and damp soil, grief coursing through him as his back bowed with a broken sob. He never wanted this, he led this monster to them and it had destroyed everything.

The soft creak of a bowstring pulled taut caused the boy to look up, the metal point of the arrow gleaming in the hellish firelight. The man’s face was cast in shadow and twisted with rage, and it took the boy a moment to recognize him. Anabelle’s father, the general store owner. He’d watched Scott grow up, chasing the boys out of the shop when they tried to steal penny candies and smiling indulgently as Scott offered small carved wooden trinkets to his daughter. There was none of that familiar affection in him now, just hate and disgust for the creature that had hidden itself in their midst.

“Please.” Scott croaked as the arrow tracked his movements.

The shopkeeper just hissed. “Wolf!”

“I-I can explain!”

Someone yelled behind him and Woof used the split-second distraction to dive for the bushes. The shopkeeper loosed his arrow, grazing Woof’s arm as he shifted back to his faster form and ran. He dragged himself through the underbrush, trailing blood behind him until he collapsed from exhaustion. The voices hunting for him had grown distant and the fire’s light was lost among the trees, darkness settling around him. He willed his hammering heart and ragged panting to be silent so the hunters would pass him by, friends and neighbors that had turned against him in one split second.

It was over. He had nothing left. His home had gone up in flames, like one from what felt like a thousand years ago. He’d even lost the last wolf who ever knew him. Once upon a time, he’d survived by running, but only just barely. Now there was nowhere to run to. If he stayed, they would come back, maybe not tonight but eventually, but there was no strength left in his legs. Scott didn’t know how to stop feeling sorry.

Time slipped through his fingers, the night blurring until all he knew was pain and regret. The moon and her song were a million miles away, and the soft earth beneath his feet no longer offered comfort. He had to leave. Scott knew he did, he just didn’t know how to stop crying.

A sharp jab at his side made him cry out, and he rolled away from the offending branch before a sharp intake of breath warned him of another human. A familiar scent flooded his nose, and the wolf forced himself to look up as clumsy yet gentle fingers stroked down his cheek. Red’s face was tear stained and bruised, but he’d recognize his wolf everywhere. He did his best to check the other boy over, biting back unhappy sobs as he cradled him close.

“I thought you were gone,” Red whispered. “I thought they found you. I can’t lose you, Scott. I can’t I can’t…” The wolf licked his cheek, and it was more than he could say.

Red held him close, and Woof let himself drift. It felt like Woof was in a dream, the sweetest dream to end the nightmare that he was living, and as they huddled together, warmth engulfed them. The boys stayed there for a long time, as the sun rose and brave men and women set about finding the monster that had hidden among them for so long. The villagers would never locate them, though there were plenty of trails to follow and spilled blood spoke of a tragic end. Though he would never know it, the town baker would come closest as he caught a glance of white petals peeking up through the grass. A ring of wild flowers that appeared overnight where they thought they’d seen the wolf last in a fairy circle.

The boys returned to the ruins of their home, nothing but ash and smoldering embers left of the little cabin they'd grown up in. There was nothing left for them to bury, just a pyre that had already taken the Woodsman away. Silently, they combed through the debris, rescuing a few small remnants of their life. A heavy, charred trunk of clothes, a few scraps of metal, a cache of trinkets Red had hidden beneath one of the flagstones. He pulled a small, misshapen wooden lump from the hole and ran his fingers around its smooth edges. The figure Woof had carved for him had broken its arm off over the years, but the swooping cape was still intact and Red slipped the little doll into his pocket.

Morning broke over their little clearing as two exhausted boys brushed the dirt and ashes from their clothes, clasped hands tightly, and turned their backs on their home to follow the sunrise.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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